


Holiday Souvenirs

by GreyMichaela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ( I know right?), (very light), AU, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Cas is snarky AND sneaky, Dean runs a diner, Fluff and Humor, For a given value of humor, Frottage, Gabriel has two little girls in this, Gabriel is sad and lonely and kind of an idiot sometimes, Hand Jobs, I almost titled this: I Went On Vacation And All I Got Was This Enormous Crush, I'm sensing a theme in my stuff, It's mostly just fun, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pining, Snark, The Holiday crossover, but I decided it was too silly, but not as much as usual I swear, daddy!Gabriel, he and Cas are cousins, he's a widower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover AU loosely based on the film <b>The Holiday</b> with Sam and Gabriel where Sam and Castiel swap houses for a month.  Sam ends up next door to Gabriel, a widower with two young girls, and Castiel ends up sharing a house with Dean.  Shenanigans, obviously, ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HixyStix (GaiaMyles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaiaMyles/gifts).



> Written for my beta of the time, HixyStix, as a birthday request!
> 
> (Photoset done by the lovely [RubysBurnedWings.](http://rubysburnedwings.tumblr.com)

The scream startled Gabriel bolt upright and he was scrambling out of bed and down the hall before his brain caught up with his body.

Abigail was sitting up in bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, and she held out her arms when Gabriel burst into the room.

Gabriel gathered her tiny frame into his arms, rocking her back and forth and crooning wordlessly.

A shadow fell across the doorway and Gabriel looked up.  Bethany was standing there, a mixture of concern and irritation on her face.

“Is she okay?” she asked.

Gabriel nodded, his nose tickled by Abigail’s silken black hair. The little girl sniffled and clung tighter and Gabriel shifted position, patting the mattress next to him.

Bethany accepted the invitation, climbing into Abigail’s bed and curling up against Gabriel’s side with a happy sigh.

Long moments passed.

“Do you wanna tell me what your dream was about?” Gabriel finally asked, when Abigail’s breathing had finally evened out and she wasn’t clutching him quite as tightly.

Abigail lifted one tiny shoulder, and Gabriel saw their mother in the movement, his heart clutching. 

“I dreameded…” she said. 

“We got that part,” Bethany said.  “What did you dream _about?_ ”

“Beth,” Gabriel said gently.

“Sorry,” Bethany said, not sounding very sorry.

“Mommy was in the car,” Abigail said, ignoring her big sister.  “And she was…” Her tiny hands fisted in Gabriel’s thin cotton shirt.  “She was driving _away.”_

Gabriel winced.  That wasn’t new, though; Abby’d been having the dreams since her mother got sick.

“That’s no fun, baby,” he said, kissing the top of her head.  “Want me to sing to you?”

Abigail shook her head.  “Not done,” she complained into Gabriel’s shirt

_Oops._ “I’m sorry,” Gabriel said hastily.  “What else happened?  Was I there?  Did I swoop in and save the day and turn Mommy’s car around?  I was a superhero, wasn’t I?  Please tell me I wasn’t wearing spandex.”

That got a giggle from Bethany, but Abigail just pushed her face harder into Gabriel’s chest and took a shaky breath.

“Abs? Honey?” Gabriel said. He rubbed her back, feeling the knobby bumps of spine under his thumbs.  He’d tried to get her to talk to a therapist after Kali’s death, but Abigail had had a terrified shrieking fit at the suggestion and Gabriel hadn’t brought it up again.

“Just leave it,” Castiel had told him when Gabriel confided in him over a beer in the back yard one evening.  “If you try to force her, you could cause irreparable harm.  Listen to her when she tells you about the dreams and try to redirect her thoughts elsewhere when she’s done, to happier things.”

“Are you a psychiatrist now, Cas?” Gabriel teased.  “And here I thought you were just some stuffy librarian! You’re moonlighting as a therapist, aren’t you?”

His cousin had fixed him with a stern look.  “You’re not as funny as you seem to think, Gabriel.”

Abigail was burrowing closer, holding onto Gabriel as if he’d vanish out from under her.

“Talk to me, baby girl,” Gabriel said gently.

“You were in the car too,” Abigail whispered.  “Mommy drove you away.  You… _left_ us.”

Gabriel’s arms tightened around her.  _Well, shit._

“You know,” he said, keeping his voice light, “You woke up too soon and you missed the best part of that dream.”

Abigail shifted and pulled away far enough to peer suspiciously up into his face. “What part?” she asked.

Gabriel winked at her.  “I _was_ going to let it be a surprise, but Mommy and I were just going for ice cream for your birthday party because she realized she’d forgotten it and you can’t have a birthday party without _ice cream_ , for heaven’s sake!  So we were hopping in the car to get you some.  Pistachio, right?”

Abigail giggled and wrinkled her nose.  “Ew, no! Rocky Road, Daddy, you _know_ that!”

“Right, of course, silly me!” Gabriel said.  He dropped a kiss on her nose and set her back down on the bed as Bethany scooted over to make room.  “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asked.

Abigail nodded, smothering a yawn.  She rolled over and pulled her knees up to her chest while Gabriel pulled the blankets up over her shoulders and herded Bethany ahead of him out of the bedroom.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Gabriel said from the doorway.   “Sleep well and dream of ice cream.”

Abigail giggled again and Gabriel shut the door.  He ruffled Bethany’s hair and she ducked, scowling.

“Right, sorry,” Gabriel said, holding up his hands.  He caught her arm and pulled her into a hug, stifling a sigh when he realized she was almost up to his shoulder.  “Who gave you permission to get so tall, young lady?”

Bethany grinned and hugged him back.  “Is Abby okay?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

“She’s fine, love,” Gabriel said, hoping he was telling the truth. “She just misses Mom.”

“I do too,” Bethany confessed.

“I know,” Gabriel said.  “Need me to tuck you in?”

Bethany nodded. 

In her bedroom, Gabriel pulled the covers back, waiting for Bethany to crawl in and curl her long limbs around her giant stuffed dog.

“Can I see the picture?” she asked, once she was situated to her satisfaction.

Gabriel leaned over and picked up the picture frame on the table next to the bed. Lying down on his side behind Bethany, he held it where she could see it.  It held a picture of Gabriel in a bright blue shirt and an eye-searing red, white and blue vest with spangles on it, a microphone in one hand and his other arm around Kali, who had a brilliant smile on her lovely face.

“Tell me the story,” Bethany said.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to say ‘please’?” Gabriel complained.

Bethany giggled.

“Fine,” Gabriel said, sighing loudly to make her laugh again.  “It was a costume party for the Fourth of July party at the bank. Your mother refused to dress up, said it wasn’t…” He waited.

Bethany didn’t disappoint.  _“Professional,_ ” she said. 

“That was your mother for you,” Gabriel agreed.  “She had this weird thing about acting like an adult. I did my best to break her of the habit, but she fought me on it.  Anyway, so of course I had to dress up for both of us, and I found this sparkly shirt and an even sparklier vest and I got up and sang karaoke to her.  She was so embarrassed, but she was used to me mortifying her in public by then, so she just rolled with it.”

“What’d you sing?” Bethany asked.

“Love Shack,” Gabriel said, smiling to himself at the memory.  Kali had hidden her face when the music started, laughing into her hands, but Gabriel had dragged her onto the dance floor and spun her in circles as he belted out the number, until Kali was helpless to do anything but cling to him as he sang, tears of laughter streaming down her olive skin.

They’d gotten the call from the doctor the next day.  _Brain tumor.  Inoperable.  Four months, if they were lucky.  Very sorry._ She’d lived six more months.

Gabriel realized with a start that Bethany was asleep, arms tight around her dog, and he set the picture back on the table and tiptoed out of the room.

Safely back in his bedroom, Gabriel looked at his massive bed and sighed. It had been two years since Kali died. Two years, and Gabriel had never imagined being this lonely.  Two years of sleeping alone. 

Gabriel was a social creature at heart.  He missed his wife with a bone-deep ache that he knew would never really go away, but more than that; he missed being part of a couple, having that connection with another person, sharing a joke from across a crowded room, just being _with_ someone. Most of the time he could handle being alone, but every once in awhile it just got to be too much to bear.

He crawled into the bed, trying to ignore how empty it felt.  He would call his mother in law tomorrow; see if she could take the girls for a few days.  It was time for him to make a connection, even if it was just for one night.

 

***

 

Gabriel stared at himself in the mirror, stifling nerves.  _It’s just one night,_ he reminded himself, smoothing his black satin shirt over his jeans. He hoped it struck the right note – not looking for anything more than a good time, a quick roll in the hay, some mutual pleasure and then home before breakfast time.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and headed for the door.  He’d picked a bar he was comfortable in; the bartender was a personal friend and could be trusted to warn Gabriel if any of his prospects seemed like trouble.

Gabriel pushed the heavy wooden door open, letting the rhythmic thud-thump of the music wrap around the base of his spine and twine through his bones. Sliding onto a stool at the bar, he raised an eyebrow at the bartender, who gave him a grin, white teeth flashing in the dim room.

The man poured Gabriel’s usual – Jack and Coke – without being told, and slid it across the bar to him.

Gabriel tipped it his direction before taking his first swallow.  “What’s good tonight, George?” he said.  The music was as loud as usual; Gabriel had to almost shout to be heard. 

“Not much just yet,” George called back.  “But the night’s young.  I see anyone particularly…interesting, I’ll send ‘em your way.”

“Good man,” Gabriel said.  He downed the rest of his drink and waited for George to pour his second before heading towards his favorite spot, a couch big enough for two people, sitting on a raised dais at the back of the room.  From there, Gabriel could keep tabs on anyone that came in, and if he saw anyone interesting, all he had to do was give George the high sign and the bartender would herd the person in Gabriel’s direction.

_And all it had taken was a five-star review of the bar’s food,_ Gabriel thought, amused.  At least the food really _was_ that good and he hadn’t had to lie, thankfully; that would’ve been stretching his moral fiber a little too far otherwise.

George caught Gabriel’s eye and jerked his head in the direction of the door and Gabriel glanced that way.

_Oh, hello_.

Gabriel sat a little straighter.  This had possibilities.  The man who had just walked in was clearly alone, possibly not a local, judging from the way he kept glancing around, fiddling with the scarf slung loosely around his neck.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the haze that hung low in the room. The newcomer was tall, well over six feet, with huge hands and feet.  Sleek brown hair had probably started the day gelled into place, but it was falling forward over a high forehead now as he sat at the bar and leaned forward to talk to George.

He was probably eight to ten years younger than Gabriel, but age didn’t matter during a one-night stand, and that meant he’d probably have some impressive stamina. 

George said something and pointed in Gabriel’s direction and Gabriel looked away hastily.  He could _feel_ sharp eyes on him, examining him, and he looked out over the room, affecting disinterest.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tall young man accept two drinks from George and stand up, heading in Gabriel’s direction.

“Is that seat taken?” a deep voice inquired from Gabriel’s other side, making him jump.

Gabriel looked up into dark brown eyes that gleamed with a deep intensity, the dark-haired man grinning at him with a predatory air.

“Um,” Gabriel said, glancing at the young man heading his way. “Actually…”

“Good,” the other man said, and sat down next to him.  His thigh brushed Gabriel’s and Gabriel’s eyes widened as he pulled away a little.

The young man with the drinks faltered mid-step and Gabriel shot him a desperate look as the man next to him put a hand on Gabriel’s leg.

“Wow, for such a little dude, you sure have some muscle, don’t you?” he said. “Bet you’re dynamite in the sack.”

_The sack?_ Gabriel’s lip curled. This guy had left his pickup lines in the eighties, along with his manners.  Gabriel reached down and picked the man’s hand up, dropping it in his lap.

“Don’t be like that,” the other man chided, scooting closer.

Gabriel suppressed a sigh.  This was exactly what he’d come here to avoid.

“Do I look like a trophy girlfriend to you?” he snapped.  “Touch me again and lose your hand.”

The man barked a laugh and planted his huge hand back on Gabriel’s leg, smirking at him. “I’m twice your size, bucko. What do you think you’re going to do about it?”

Gabriel’s lips tightened, but before he could move, a pair of hands reached down and caught the man’s leather jacket by the lapels, hauling him up with effortless ease and bringing him nose to nose with the young man from the bar.

“He said he didn’t want to be touched,” the young man growled.  “That’s your hint to _fuck off._ ” He glanced around the bigger man’s shoulder and gave Gabriel a brilliant smile.  “Sorry I’m late, honey.”

“Honey?” the big man sputtered.  He glared at Gabriel.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were taken?”

“Because it shouldn’t matter?” Gabriel retorted.  “Because I’m a free agent and whether or not I have a boyfriend has no bearing on whether I’m interested in _you?_ Which, by the way, I’m not, so take the excellent suggestion offered and fuck right off, would you?”

The young man let the other’s jacket go and stepped out of the way, gesturing expansively. The big man glared but decided not to press, stalking away in a huff.

Gabriel patted the couch next to him.  “I think you’ve earned this seat.  I’m Gabriel.”

The young man picked up the Jack and Coke and handed it to him. “From George,” he said, sitting down. “I’m Sam.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, accepting the glass.  “For the booze and for protecting my honor.”

“I didn’t really need to,” Sam said, smiling. “You seemed to be handling it fine on your own.  But something about that guy just really bothered me.”

Gabriel smiled back at him over the rim of his glass.  This close, he could see that Sam’s eyes were green, with a ring of gold around the inner part of the iris.  His jawline could cut steel, and when he smiled, the edges of his mouth quirked down and then up, flashing dimples and…Gabriel swallowed, hard. _Holy hell, this kid is gorgeous.  What’s he doing talking to me?_

“So what brings you here, Sam?” he asked instead.

Sam shrugged. “On vacation.  Needed a break from my life.  Figured Coquille was as good a place as any.  I’ve always liked Oregon.” 

“And what brings you to the bar tonight?” Gabriel asked. 

“Alcohol, mostly,” Sam said.

Gabriel grinned.  He was liking this young man.  He allowed himself a fleeting moment to wonder what Sam’s mouth would look like wrapped around his cock and took a deep breath, emptying his glass in several desperate gulps.

When he set the glass down, Sam was looking at him quizzically.

Gabriel met his eyes.  _Cards on the table._

“Here’s the deal.  I’m looking for some fun, Sam.  I want to get laid, preferably more than once.  I don’t want flowers, I don’t want romance or sweet-talk.  I want a hotel room with clean sheets, a good bottle of wine and a willing partner. And in the morning, I want to say goodbye and go back to my life.”

Sam’s eyebrows were steadily climbing his forehead.  When Gabriel stopped talking, Sam sat very still, watching his face. 

He was silent for long enough that Gabriel began to quietly panic. He’d said too much. Scared the kid off. He was too blunt, as usual.

“Are you clean?” Sam asked.

Gabriel let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah, I am.  It’s been six months since I’ve had sex with anyone other than my left hand, and I just had my annual checkup. You?”

Sam nodded. He cocked his head and leaned back against the couch, trailing a hand along Gabriel’s forearm, making him shiver.

“In that case,” Sam said, his voice dark and smoky, “What are we still doing here?”

Somehow Gabriel was on his feet, dragging a laughing Sam behind him as he tossed money at George to settle his tab and headed for the door. Outside, he stopped to regroup.

“Um…did you drive here?” he asked.

Sam shook his head.  “Taxi.”

“Good. My car’s right around the corner.” He headed that direction, barely aware of his surroundings; his whole being focused on the footsteps behind him. 

Sam caught up as Gabriel was fumbling the keys out of his pocket, but instead of going to the passenger’s side, he came up behind Gabriel, catching his arm and turning him so that Gabriel’s back was pressed against the cold glass of the window.

The keys fell out of suddenly nerveless fingers as Sam braced a hand on either side of Gabriel’s shoulders and leaned in. 

“What…” A long finger against Gabriel’s mouth stopped the question and Gabriel swallowed hard.  The finger stayed there, warm on Gabriel’s lips, as Sam got closer, until he filled Gabriel’s vision and all he could see were green gold eyes gleaming at him in the dim light from the streetlamp.

“I want to see…” Sam whispered, nosing along Gabriel’s jaw, breath ghosting warm across Gabriel’s skin and making him shiver.

Gabriel worked moisture into his mouth.  “See…what?” He was proud that his voice only wavered a little bit.

“What you taste like,” Sam breathed, and closed his lips on a patch of Gabriel’s neck and _sucked._

Gabriel arched against him, a helpless, needy sound falling from his mouth that he’d deny to his dying day.  Sam’s hands caught Gabriel’s shoulders, pinning him back against the car and holding him there effortlessly. 

Gabriel relaxed into him, feeling the strength in Sam’s body and knowing somehow that Sam was in charge, taking the decisions out of Gabriel’s hands and letting him just _be_.

Sam’s mouth went lower and he licked a wet stripe up to Gabriel’s ear. He nipped Gabriel’s earlobe, making the shorter man yelp, and said, “I forgot to ask.  Opinions on marking?”

Gabriel struggled to bring his brain back online.  “Um.  Anywhere a t-shirt and boxers cover.”

Sam’s eyes glinted.  “Good.” He dove back in and Gabriel groaned, catching at Sam’s arms.

“Sam,” he managed.  “ _Sam,_ stop!”

Sam lifted his head, green eyes fogged with lust.  “ _What?_ ” he growled.

Gabriel was panting for air.  “Your mouth could start international wars, _Jesus_.”

Sam grinned and Gabriel took advantage of the moment to push him away.

He straightened his clothes and pointed a warning finger at the taller man when Sam made as if to close in again.

“Don’t you _dare,_ ” he said. “We are going to a hotel, a _nice_ hotel with really high thread-count sheets, and we are doing this lying down, do you hear me? _Not_ in a grungy parking lot where anyone could be watching!”

Sam threw his head back and laughed and Gabriel caught his breath.  He’d thought the kid was striking already, but when he laughed…the mirth rolled out of him, his whole body shaking, and Gabriel couldn’t remember how to breathe.  God, he was beautiful, and Gabriel _wanted_ with a sudden, aching desperation.

He grabbed his keys off the ground and yanked his door open, sliding behind the wheel. It took several tries to get the key into the ignition, giving Sam time to round the car and fold himself into the seat next to him.

“Doing okay there?” Sam asked as Gabriel cursed and tried again to get the key inserted.

Gabriel shot him a look.  “This is your fault anyway, so how ‘bout you shut it?”

Sam chortled and buckled his seatbelt, adjusting himself unselfconsciously.

Gabriel stared, forgetting about starting the car.

Sam arched an eyebrow.  “Like what you see?”

“You know I do,” Gabriel snapped.  He squirmed in his seat, his own erection almost painful. 

Sam held his gaze as he slid one hand down his stomach and over the fabric covered bulge. He _squeezed_ and his head fell back against the seat as he groaned deep in his chest.

Gabriel bit his hand, hoping the pain would center him.  Sam was writhing, making filthy little noises as he stroked himself through his pants and Gabriel had never seen anything so hot. He was going to combust right there in his seat.  They’d find a little pile of ashes in the driver’s seat and a sign that said, “Here lies Gabriel Messina. He died a noble death and it was totally worth it.”

“Gabriel?” Sam’s voice jerked Gabriel out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” he said, and had to stop to clear his throat.  “You might wanna stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Sam asked, innocence personified.  He ruined the effect by moaning again as his hand found a sensitive spot, and Gabriel slapped himself in the face, hard.

The stinging pain centered him and he was able to get the key into the ignition this time as Sam snickered shamelessly next to him.  Gabriel left tire treads behind peeling out of the parking lot.

 

They didn’t say anything on the drive across town.  Gabriel was preoccupied with driving and Sam settled in against the door to watch him.

In the room, an inexplicable shyness settled over both of them.  Sam wandered around the room, trailing a finger across the soft bedspread, admiring the Jacuzzi in the corner.

“We’ll have to give that a try,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel, who nodded as he removed his coat.

“Want something to drink?” Gabriel asked.

“You mentioned something about wine…” Sam said.  He kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the bed, wriggling a little and moaning in bliss.

Gabriel dropped the telephone and scrambled to pick it up, swearing. Dammit, this kid was going to be the death of him.

Sam was laughing quietly on the bed, sprawled in a boneless heap. Gabriel managed to connect with room service and place the order and turned back to see Sam unbuttoning his shirt.

Their eyes met and Sam’s eyebrow went up again.  “This isn’t a spectator sport, champ.  Get in here and show me how to swing.”

Gabriel grinned and rested his hips against the desk.  “Actually, I was thinking I’d watch for a bit, stay on this side of the room.  Otherwise we’ll scar room service for life and I’ll have to remortgage my house to tip them enough to make up for it.”

Sam laughed and Gabriel took a deep breath.  He could very easily get addicted to that sound, he thought. _Too_ easily.

Thankfully, a knock sounded on the door and Gabriel headed for it, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.  He tipped the kid generously and turned, nearly dropping the wine because Sam was _right there,_ all up in his space, green eyes hooded and predatory as he took the bottle out of Gabriel’s unresisting hand.

“Oh good, it’s uncorked,” he murmured, and took a deep swig, his throat working as he swallowed. 

Gabriel followed the movement with his eyes, hypnotized. 

Sam lowered the bottle and caught the back of Gabriel’s neck, pulling him in close to kiss him slow and deep.

Gabriel curled his fists in Sam’s unbuttoned shirt, hanging loose between them, tasting wine and whatever Sam had been drinking at the bar, a heady mixture that tasted like heaven on Gabriel’s tongue as Sam’s slid against it, teasing and retreating and advancing again until Gabriel was making embarrassing little noises, Sam’s arms the only thing keeping him upright.

Sam broke the kiss only when they were both desperate for air and Gabriel was gratified to see that Sam was trembling too, his pulse racing in his throat.

“Bed,” Gabriel suggested.

Sam nodded fervently and dropped the wine on the dresser as he walked Gabriel backward to the bed and toppled him onto it.

Gabriel landed and bounced, toeing his shoes off and propping himself on his elbows to watch as Sam stripped.  Miles of golden skin appeared and Gabriel’s mouth watered.  He couldn’t wait to get his hands all over that body, and judging from the heat in Sam’s eyes, the feeling was mutual.

“You have way too many clothes on,” Sam pointed out, long fingers unbuckling his belt.

Gabriel scrambled upright and yanked his shirt off over his head, forgetting about the buttons. He got stuck in the neck hole and swore, trapped.  Sam’s laugh rang out and then gentle hands were easing Gabriel free of the shirt and he emerged, flushing and rumpled, from the depths.

Sam was kneeling in front of him on the bed, completely naked, amusement in his eyes. Gabriel swallowed hard. Sam was… _beautiful._ It was more than just the toned body, the muscles that Sam clearly worked hard at, or even his stupidly attractive face.  A purity shone from within this young man, sparking in his eyes, and Gabriel suddenly felt small and unworthy and homely next to him.

A finger tilted Gabriel’s chin up.  “Hey, whoa, where’d you go?”

Gabriel shook his head, pulling away.  This was stupid.  _He_ was stupid.  He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be doing this, he should be home with his girls, taking care of his family like he was supposed to, not out having a one-night stand with a stranger, no matter how gorgeous that stranger was. It was stupid and reckless and he shouldn’t have –

Sam cut off the rapidly circling thoughts with a kiss, slow and sweet and gentle. Gabriel froze for a minute and then melted into it with a desperate noise, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and falling backward onto the pillows, pulling Sam down with him.

They kissed for several long, slow moments, Gabriel trying to chase the destructive thoughts away and Sam seemingly happy to just explore Gabriel’s mouth for a while.

“Here’s the thing,” Sam whispered when he broke the kiss.  “You look like you need taking out of your head. I don’t know you, I don’t know anything about you or your situation, but I get the impression that you’re used to being in charge.  And personality as forceful as yours?  I’m betting you’re a great leader.”

He nibbled his way down Gabriel’s neck, pinning Gabriel’s hands to the bed as he moved.

“But see, even leaders get tired of being in control,” Sam said. He dropped his head and took one of Gabriel’s nipples in his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue and nipping lightly until Gabriel was shaking, tugging at Sam’s hands where they held him down. Only then did Sam look up and smile.

“You need a night off.  Am I right?”

Gabriel swallowed hard.  This kid was too perceptive. But…he was also right. Gabriel nodded silently and Sam smiled, licking his lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Sam murmured.  Then his hands were working at Gabriel’s belt buckle and dragging his pants down over his bare feet.

Gabriel’s cock bobbed free and his hips bucked up, looking desperately for friction where there was none.  He whimpered and then Sam was on top of him, stretched out in a long line over his body, hardness sliding against each other, and Gabriel closed his eyes on a groan.

He let the sensations take him, rushing over him until he was writhing and squirming against Sam’s hands, back to pinning his arms to the mattress as their hips rocked together.

“Sam,” Gabriel managed, “ _Close._ ”

Sam hummed in response, hips still moving, investigating a spot under Gabriel’s ear with his mouth.  “You gonna come for me, Gabe?” he murmured.

Gabriel shook his head desperately.  “No, no _please,_ Sam…”

Sam lifted his head, eyes questioning.  “What’s wrong?”

Gabriel couldn’t quite meet his gaze.  “I want… _you,_ ” he said. “I want…you inside me when…”

Sam’s eyes darkened and then he was gone, rolling off to the side to rummage in his pants pocket, leaving Gabriel alone and cold on the bed. In no time, though, Sam was back, kneeling between Gabriel’s legs. 

Gabriel closed his eyes.  He couldn’t watch this part, not and keep it together.  He gathered handfuls of the bedspread and took a deep breath as Sam set to work.

Gabriel gave himself over to it, letting Sam open him in slow, gentle movements, fingers of one hand working deep inside Gabriel while Sam’s other hand stroked his thigh with devastatingly gentle movements.

“Breathe,” Sam murmured, and dropped a kiss on Gabriel’s knee.

Gabriel obeyed, dragging in a deep lungful as Sam finally slid his fingers free and shuffled into position.  He rolled the condom on and looked into Gabriel’s face.

“Ready?”

Gabriel just nodded and then Sam was breaching the ring of muscle, nudging inward slowly, letting Gabriel’s body adjust around him and accept the intrusion.

Gabriel sucked in a great whooping gasp of air and Sam caressed his ribs, staying rock steady above him, inching forward slowly, so slowly. 

Jesus fuck, it _hurt._   It had been too long since he’d done this and his body had forgotten how much fun it could be.  It didn’t help that Sam was big, well above average, and all in all, Gabriel was pretty sure he was going to split in half.

He breathed in short, panting jerks and opened his eyes to see Sam looking unhappy, concerned for _him_.

“It’s too much,” Sam said.  “Just hold on, I’ll pull out.”

Gabriel caught his arms before he could.  “Don’t…you… _dare,_ ” he snarled. “It’s…God, it’s amazing, just _give_ me a minute, okay?”

Relief filled Sam’s face and he nodded. 

Slowly, Gabriel’s body adjusted and the aching burn began to fade. Tongue caught between his teeth, he moved his hips and Sam slid further in with a gasp.

Gabriel grinned up at him.  The pain was being replaced by pleasure and a driving need for Sam to _move._

“Now,” Gabriel commanded.

Sam’s eyes lit up and he obeyed, bottoming out with a groan and pulling out only to add a little more lube and then slide right back in again.

Gabriel wrapped his legs around Sam’s pistoning hips, reaching up to pull Sam’s head down enough to kiss him thoroughly.  Sam groaned and kissed him back like a drowning man within sight of the shore, sinking into Gabriel’s welcoming heat.

Gabriel was overflowing, bursting at the seams.  He was pretty sure he was going to die of ecstasy any second now. His head fell back on the pillow as Sam snapped his hips forward again, hitting Gabriel’s prostate over and over with devastating precision.  Gabriel shouted, arching up off the bed, and Sam wrapped a hand around Gabriel’s length and began to stroke in counter time to his thrusts.

Once…twice…and Gabriel was done, spilling helplessly over Sam’s hand, pleasure rocketing through his nerves.  Above him, Sam slammed home and stiffened, choking on a groan and dropping his face to Gabriel’s chest as his own orgasm ripped out of him.

When awareness crept back in, Gabriel lay on his back, arms and legs flung out like a starfish, and considered life.  There was a very large, very gorgeous, _very_ naked man sprawled on top of him, and said man had just given him one of the best orgasms Gabriel had ever had.  He’d focused on Gabriel’s needs ahead of his own, and it had been mind-blowing in the best possible way.

Life was definitely good right now.

Sam lifted his head and Gabriel smiled up at him.  Sam looked positively _debauched,_ lips red and kiss-swollen, hair mussed, bite marks marring the smooth skin of his throat and chest, pupils blown all to hell.

Sam wrinkled his nose at him.  “No need to look _quite_ so satisfied with yourself,” he said, and Gabriel laughed.

“There is every need, thank you very much.  Now get off me and let’s take that hot tub for a test drive.”

They spent the rest of the evening lounging in the giant tub, having bubble bath wars, watching bad TV from the bathtub and getting into a heated discussion about who should have won American Idol’s most recent competition.

It ended with lazy, relaxed blowjobs in the water and Gabriel enjoyed getting to demonstrate his lack of gag reflex.  Feeling Sam jerk and gasp above him, huge hands threading through wet hair and curving against Gabriel’s skull as he emptied into the condom was a memory that Gabriel would savor for years to come. 

After their bath, Gabriel was delighted to discover that Sam was a cuddler too and they fell asleep clean, fed and sated, wrapped in each other’s arms.  

 

Gabriel woke before the sun.  Sam’s long arm was draped across Gabriel’s torso, his nose pressed against Gabriel’s shoulder. His hair fell across his face, fluttering a little as he breathed, and Gabriel had to suppress a sudden wild desire to kiss the younger man’s forehead.

Instead he slid out from underneath him, holding his breath and taking it in stages until Sam murmured something in his sleep and turned over, clutching a pillow to his chest.

Gabriel stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at the young man. Part of him wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with him for the next several days, doing nothing but eating, drinking and making love.

But that was stupid.  Gabriel had a job, a life, two little girls who depended on him.  He’d achieved his goal; he’d gotten laid.  Now it was time to put that aside and go back to the real world.

He slipped into his clothes and gathered his shoes and keys in hand. Sam never stirred as Gabriel slipped out the door, closing it with a faint click behind him.

Out in the hallway, Gabriel leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Then he put his shoes on and left the hotel and drove away without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

**SAM**

Sam was in a foul mood, no two ways around it.  As if waking up that morning alone wasn’t bad enough, he’d realized halfway through picking up his things from where they’d been strewn the night before that he didn’t have enough cash to tip housekeeping.  He’d had to run barefoot down to the lobby and use their ATM, gritting his teeth at the exorbitant fee, and dash back up to the room to leave the tip, only to discover that Gabriel had not only paid for the hotel room, but he’d tipped the maid when he’d left, while Sam was still dead to the world.

 _Charming, gorgeous, great in bed_ and _a decent human being,_ Sam thought sourly as he waited for the taxi, which was taking its sweet time. If it weren’t for the bite marks and tiny bruises that dotted Sam’s torso, he’d be pretty inclined to write the whole thing off as a particularly vivid dream. Where the _hell_ was that taxi?

The yellow cab finally rounded the corner and Sam slid into the back.

“307 Magnolia, please,” he told the cabbie, who nodded cheerfully and turned up the radio.

Sam winced and looked out the window, doing his best to ignore the discordant mess that blared from the speakers. 

Coquille was a lovely town and Sam had wanted to visit Oregon for a while. He’d been delighted to see that someone had been interested in trading houses with him for a month, although at the moment he had a hard time seeing Nashville’s appeal.  Ruby was there, after all, still working at their law firm, still smiling that brilliant smile of hers, her huge black eyes seeming too big for her delicate face, all the partners making up excuses to stop by her office for one reason or another just so she’d smile at them.

Sam hadn’t believed it at first when she’d been interested in _him._   He was a lawyer, sure, but he wasn’t even a partner yet.  But there she was, leaning over his desk, giving him a look down her blouse at her very excellent breasts, inviting him to eat with her in her office to “go over the files on the Whitmore case”.

They’d ended up having sex for the first time on her desk.  Sam wasn’t stupid, nor was he naïve.  He knew he wasn’t her first and wouldn’t be her last. He didn’t expect to walk in on Brady with a hand up her skirt and mouth busy on her breast, though, the day he’d decided to surprise her by taking her out for lunch.

He’d surprised her, all right. 

Sam had found the message board that night and sent the house owner – _Castiel, weird name_ – an email immediately.

He hadn’t expected to hit it off with Castiel Randall, or for things to fall into place so quickly, but he wasn’t complaining.  Even if he _was_ expected to take care of Castiel’s Himalayan cat.

 _She is very affectionate,_ Castiel had assured him in one of the emails.  _Just be careful not to open the outside door in her presence, as she is possessed of a very strong will and a determination to slip outside that is rather frightening to witness._

Sam had met the cat, Persephone, the night before, but it had been late and she had not been impressed by the thumping and banging that accompanied Sam dragging his bags inside and dumping them in the entryway.  Persephone had fled to the top of the stairs and watched balefully from ice-blue eyes as Sam explored the house, and had refused to be wooed, even by the tuna that Sam held out hopefully to her.

Shrugging, Sam had left her to her inscrutable feline ways, changed into more comfortable clothes, and left the house for the bar.

Where he’d met Gabriel.

_Full circle._

Sam sighed and bumped his head against the glass and the cabbie looked in the mirror, concerned.

“All right, boss?”

Sam nodded as the cab came to a halt.  He dug out his wallet and paid the driver, getting out and inspecting his home for the next month for the first time in daylight.

It wasn’t a big house, but what it lacked in size it made up for in welcoming coziness. A porch wrapped around the front half of the house, with an honest-to-God porch swing at one end, overlooking the rose bushes that spanned the walkway. 

Sam’s only neighbor was a big brick house, sprawling over a neatly kept lawn with a tire hung from the huge oak in the front yard.

Heading down the path toward the front door of Castiel’s cottage, Sam wondered idly if the people in the brick house were good friends of Castiel’s. The houses seemed unusually close together, especially considering they were the only two houses within a half-mile radius.

Sam pushed the door open and a small cream-colored blur streaked past him, heading for the bushes.

 _“Fuck!”_ Sam stood in the doorway, frozen by indecision. Did he chase the cat down? Did he dare take the time to run inside and grab the cat treats and try to lure her out?  She hadn’t seemed interested in the tuna…Sam shoved his keys in his pocket and went after the furry escapee, who had left the safety of the rose bushes and was running across the lawn toward the neighbor’s house.

 _It’s too early in the goddamn morning for this shit,_ Sam thought desperately.  He made it onto the neighbor’s porch in one leap, just in time to see a dark brown tail disappear through the pet flap in the front door.

Sam groaned out loud.  _Fuck, fuck,_ fuck.  _Now what?_ Nothing for it. He was going to have to knock on his neighbor’s door at six o’clock in the goddamn morning and hope they returned the stupid ball of fluff and didn’t decide to shoot him for knocking on their door at six o’clock in the goddamn morning.

Sam tucked his shirt back in and smoothed his jeans a little, then nerved himself and knocked.

A child shrieked and Sam blinked, startled, as tiny feet came galloping down the hall toward the front door.  It swung open and Sam was staring into the face of a gorgeous little girl with dusky skin and pitch-black eyes.

She put her fingers in her mouth and gazed up at him and Sam tried a smile.

“Hi, I’m Sam.”

The little girl pulled her fingers out of her mouth.  “You’re _tall._ ”

Sam’s smile was genuine this time.  “I am,” he agreed.  “Is your mommy or daddy home?”

“Uh huh,” the little girl said.

A voice came from the hallway.  “Abigail, what have I told you about opening the door-” The voice stopped as the owner of it came into view, and Sam froze.

 _Gabriel._  

Sam backed up as Gabriel stopped mid-step, his face a mask of shock as well. _No, no,_ no. _How was this possible?_  

Abigail was oblivious.  “Daddy, lookit! Look how _tall_ he is!  How tall is he?” She swung around to Sam.  “How tall are you?” she demanded.

Sam couldn’t remember how to form words.  He’d last seen that face on the pillow beside his, clever mouth lax with exhaustion as Gabriel drifted off to sleep.  Well, Sam _had_ worn him out.

Abigail was clinging to Gabriel’s leg, looking between the two men as they stared at each other.

“Pancakes are gonna burn!” another voice announced, and then a second girl appeared, a few years older than Abigail.

“Are you _serious?_ ” Sam blurted, and turned tail and ran.  Fuck the cat. Fuck it all.  He was leaving right now, this morning, going back to Nashville where his girlfriend may have cheated on him but at least she didn’t have a goddamn _family_ at home, oh God was he being Punk’d?  Was he unknowingly auditioning for an episode of Jerry Springer?

“Sam! _Sam!”_ Gabriel sounded breathless and he followed him right in the door of Castiel’s house, reaching out to catch his arm.

Sam jerked away.  Gabriel dropped his hand but didn’t back away.

“What are you _doing_ here, Sam?” he asked.

Sam let out a disbelieving bark of laughter.  “Me? What am _I_ doing here?  What the fuck are _you_ doing here, man?”

“I _live_ here,” Gabriel said. “Well. I live…there.” A vague wave in the direction of the other house.  “This is my cousin Castiel’s house.  He mentioned he was doing a house-swap and that they – _you,_ Jesus – would be here yesterday or today, but…”

“Did you do this on purpose?” Sam demanded.

“Do _what_ on purpose?” Gabriel asked, startled. In the early morning light he was even more gorgeous than he’d been in the bar’s dim illumination, Sam thought. The light through the window caught his eyes, turning them from a light brown to a vivid gold, and his mouth drooped unhappily.

“Do you think I set you up?” he was asking, and Sam turned away, running a hand through his hair.  “Did I arrange this whole thing? Did I pay that guy to hit on me last night so you’d go to bed with me, is that what you think?”

“Is that what happened?” Sam retorted, spinning back around.

“ _No!_ ” Gabriel cried, and rubbed his face.  “Jesus, Sam, _no._   I swear to you, I had no idea who you were.  I just…I needed some time to be an adult again for a little while.  I had my mother-in-law watch the girls overnight so I could go out and be a grown up, have actual alcohol, hit on some hot guys or girls, I didn’t much care which, and then you walked in and…”

Sam stared at him.  “What does your wife think of you doing this?” he asked, voice cold.  “Does she know?  Do you have an ‘open marriage’?  Does she even care that you sleep with random guys in seedy bars?”

Fury was fast shuttering over the honest distress on Gabriel’s face. “My wife doesn’t think much of anything,” he hissed, “Not since she _died_ two years ago, you insufferable _prick._ ” With that, he spun and stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Sam closed his eyes.  _Fuck._ “Winchester, you stupid fucking _asshole,_ ” he said, and collapsed onto the sofa in the tiny living room.

Two minutes later he jolted upright when the front door opened and Gabriel walked back in, carrying a disgruntled Persephone. 

“Gabriel,” Sam said, scrambling to his feet.

“You forgot the cat,” Gabriel said.  He set the tiny ball of fur on the sofa and turned to go.

“ _Wait,_ ” Sam said, catching his arm.

Gabriel stopped, not looking at him. 

Sam took a deep breath.  He could see it, now that he was looking for it.  The grief in the lines of Gabriel’s face, the tension in his shoulders, the way he held himself as if the weight of the world was on his back.

It _was,_ and Sam had just added to it.

“I’m an asshole,” he said.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to argue,” Gabriel said.

Sam snorted. “God, no.  But…will you let me apologize?”

Gabriel stood very still for a minute.  Finally he nodded.

Sam took a relieved breath.  It was a start. “I had this girlfriend, back in Nashville.  It…ended badly.  She cheated on me; I walked in on her and this guy we worked with.”

Gabriel winced and Sam took heart, forging on.  “I took off.  Picked the farthest city I could think of and showed up wanting to forget all about my old life. I asked the cab driver to take me to the nearest decent drinking establishment – the ‘seedy bar’ comment was out of line and I’m sorry – and I saw you and I just…I forgot everything. All I could think about was getting my hands everywhere, all over you.”

He ran a hand through his hair.  Gabriel was watching him, still and silent.

“Last night was…amazing.  It was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.  I woke up and you were gone and I know that’s what we both said we wanted, but I was still…disappointed.

“Then I knock on your door because of the damn hairball over there.” He gestured at the couch, where Persephone had curled up and was purring.   “And, and…kids. And… _you._ I freaked, Gabriel, I thought you were cheating on your wife, I thought I did to her what Ruby and Brady did to me and I flipped right the fuck out and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt and I didn’t, I’m really sor-”

Gabriel’s hand cut off the flow of words.  Sam blinked at him over his thumb and Gabriel smiled at him. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Gabriel asked. His eyes were amused, his shoulders beginning to relax.

Relief hit Sam so hard his head swam.  He nodded. “It’s been mentioned a time or two,” he admitted into Gabriel’s palm.

Gabriel pulled his hand away.  “Pancakes will be ready in fifteen minutes.  I’ll have the girls set an extra place at the table for you.”

And with that he was gone, back out the door as quickly as he’d come in.

 

When Sam knocked on the door, precisely fifteen minutes later, the same thundering feet and laughing shrieks greeted him.  Abigail swung the door open and grinned up at him, her wide smile revealing several gaps in her teeth.

Sam smiled back.  “Um. Hi.”  

“How tall _are_ you?” Abigail demanded.

Sam laughed and crouched so he was on eye-level with her, holding out a hand for her to shake.  “I’m six foot four. How tall are _you?_ ”

“Four feet tall ezackly!” she announced proudly, eyeing his hand with skepticism.

“You’re s’posed to shake it,” Abigail’s older sister said, coming up behind her in the hall.

“Why?” Abigail asked.  She popped her fingers in her mouth and regarded Sam over them.

Sam smiled at the older girl.  “I’m Sam. I didn’t get your name.”

“Bethany,” she said, suddenly shy.  “Daddy said I’m supposed to bring you into the kitchen.”

Bethany had black hair and her father’s golden eyes, a striking combination, and Sam could tell she was going to be a stunner when she grew up.  He rose and followed her into the house, Abigail bouncing around them like an excited puppy.

Bethany led him through a light, airy passageway and into a sunny, spacious kitchen. Gabriel stood at the stove, wearing an apron and with glasses sliding down his nose, frowning at the pan in front of him.  He glanced up and smiled at Sam, who suddenly found it hard to breathe.

The glasses gave Gabriel a studious air, and his chestnut hair was falling over his forehead in an untidy swoop.  The apron said, “Kiss the cook or I’ll burn your food.”

“I see you’ve met the ravening hordes,” he said cheerfully.  “Did they introduce themselves properly?  Try to gnaw your leg off?  They’re prone to that, no matter how I try to break them of it.”

“ _Daddy!”_ Abigail protested, giggling.  She grabbed Sam’s hand and tugged him towards the table.  “You sit here,” she told him.  “Next to me.”

“I want to sit next to him too!” Bethany said, and planted herself on Sam’s other side.

“What about me?” Gabriel complained from the stove.  “What if _I_ want to sit next to the cute boy?”

Bethany grinned at her father triumphantly.  “Wait your turn.”

“I feel like a piece of meat,” Sam said. 

Gabriel laughed and slid a pancake onto the plate.  “Beth, get in here and make yourself useful. Our guest needs feeding.”

Bethany hopped up and took the plate from him, handing it to Sam.

Sam took it, his stomach growling.  “Smells delicious,” he said.

“It should,” Gabriel said.  “I made them.”

Bethany sat back down next to Sam and smiled at him.  Sam saw her father in the way her lips quirked up at the edges, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“How old are you?” he asked her.

“I’m eleven,” Bethany said.  “Abby is seven. She’s still a baby.”

“Am _not!_ ” Abigail protested.

Gabriel handed Abigail a plate and then picked Bethany up and physically moved her one chair over as she flailed and protested. 

“Daddy, stop! _No!”_

Dropping into the chair next to Sam, Gabriel grinned triumphantly. “Told you I wanted to sit next to the cute boy.”

Sam was torn between laughing and blushing.  Bethany sulked on Gabriel’s other side and Abigail was giggling as she cut her pancake into squares.

“So, Sam,” Gabriel said, handing him the syrup.  “What do you do for a living, back in Nashville?”

There was honest interest in his eyes, and Sam found himself telling all three about his job as a lawyer.

“It’s white-collar stuff mostly,” he said.  “And I’m just a junior associate, nothing fancy.”

“What’s white-collar mean?” Bethany asked.

“It’s code for ‘boring’,” Gabriel told her.

Bethany nodded as if that explained everything.

“Hey,” Sam said halfheartedly, “It’s not _always_ boring! There was that one time that…well, no. Okay, but what about…no. Fine, you’re right, it’s boring. It’s mind-numbingly stultifying and I am very glad to not have to think about it for a whole month.”

“What’s…stul…stulti…that thing you said?” Abigail asked.

Gabriel leaned around Sam, his shoulder brushing Sam’s arm.  “ _That’s_ code for ‘Sam has a big dictionary and he’s not afraid to use it’,” he informed his daughter.

“Oh, come on!” Sam protested, laughing.  “Fine, what do _you_ do?”

“Daddy’s a writer,” Abigail said proudly.  “He writes ‘bout food!”

“And he’s writing a book too!” Bethany chimed in.  “He’s a really _good_ writer. I’m gonna be a writer when I grow up. I’m not as good as Daddy, though.”

Gabriel pointed his fork at her.  “You will be,” he said.  “Just have to keep working at it.  Remember, the first step to being good at something…”

“…Is to suck at something, I know,” Bethany said, rolling her eyes.

Sam stifled a laugh and took a swig of orange juice.  “So you write about food?  In what way?”

Gabriel shrugged a shoulder, taking another bite of pancake.  He swallowed before saying, “I’m a food critic. I write for a couple of local papers. It’s no big deal, but it pays the bills.”

Sam turned to Bethany.  “And you?”

She blinked. “What about me?”

“Well, we’ve covered what your father and I do.  Your turn.  What do you do for your living?  How do you pay the bills?”

She squirmed and giggled.  “I _don’t!_ ”

Sam feigned shock.  “You don’t pay any bills at all?  What kind of a freeloader are you, anyway?”

“Coupla mooches, the pair of ‘em,” Gabriel agreed.  “Good thing they’re so cute or I’d’ve sold ‘em for spare parts ages ago.”

Both girls burst out laughing at that and Sam grinned. 

Gabriel leaned over to ask Bethany a question and Sam settled in to focus on his food, feeling lighter and more carefree than he’d expected, especially considering the inauspicious start to his day.  He had some rearrangements to do in his thinking, but maybe this wasn’t going to be a complete disaster after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**DEAN**

It had been a very long day for Dean Winchester.  He loved his job, he loved feeding people, and he especially loved when he was able to feed people he loved, but if he _ever_ had to host a birthday party at his diner again, he was going to burn the place down.  With him inside.

Twenty-some screaming rugrats, running around yelling at the top of their lungs, hopped up on sugar and God knew what else, getting their sticky fingers all over his clean windows and countertops, complaining that they were bored and “when was the cake getting there, Mister?”

Dean dropped the last bag of party trash in the dumpster and groaned, putting his fists on his back and stretching.  _Never again._

He didn’t care _how_ grateful Jo had been or that Ellen had kissed him on the cheek and told him gruffly that he’d “done good, boy”.  Jo could throw a party for her own kid next year. 

Dean picked up a party hat that had fallen out of the bag and tossed it in the dumpster with the rest of the trash, sighing.  He was a pushover, that’s all there was to it.  His friends knew he’d do anything for them, and when had _that_ gotten around, anyway? He wasn’t a softhearted marshmallow, he was _Dean Winchester,_ badass with a ’67 Chevy Impala, the best classic rock collection in Nashville, and a string of conquests from here to California!

He headed back inside the diner, flicking off lights as he went through the place, checking that everything was secure.

Those days were behind him anyway.  It took too much energy to get out there now.  Easier to stay home, cook, and occasionally have some fun in bed with someone he genuinely liked.

Dean locked the diner and climbed into his car, rolling his head to relax his neck. He was looking forward to relaxing with a cold beer, kicking back and putting his feet up on Sam’s favorite couch, since Sam wasn’t there to give him Bitchface #3, the “You Need To Respect The Furniture” face, and maybe watching some trash TV.

Thankfully, the diner was less than a mile from home, and Dean parked and headed inside. It was dark and quiet; he wasn’t used to Sam being gone yet, and the house felt empty and weird with just Dean in it.

He whistled to himself as he turned on the lights and headed for the kitchen. First things first. Cold beer.  Maybe a sandwich, if Sam had left any food in the fridge. Oh, and the latest episode of Scandal was waiting for him on the DVR!  Excellent.  Perfect way to unwind.

He was entirely unprepared for the baseball bat that swung wildly at his head, missing him by inches and thudding into the wall with a sickening _crack._

Dean yelled and threw himself backward, scrambling along the floor until he fetched up against the wall.  _Dammit, you’re not armed, Winchester you idiot, what were you thinking?_

His attacker advanced, brandishing the bat, and Dean held up a hand.

“Dude, take what you want and just get the fuck out!”

The man hesitated. “I’m not…what?”

“I said take what you want,” Dean repeated.  “I don’t have much cash, hell, I don’t have much of anything, but if you’re that hard up, it’s yours.”

That got him a blank stare.  “You think _I’m_ robbing _you?”_

Dean pulled himself to a sitting position, back against the wall. “Considering you’re in _my_ house, yeah, pardon me for thinking that you’re fucking robbing me.”

“Your…house…”

“Are you hard of hearing?” Dean asked.  “If you’re not robbing me, what the fuck are you doing here?”

The man lowered the bat – _Dean’s_ bat, he noticed with a rush of outrage – and stared at him.  “I…my name is Castiel Randall.  Are you…Dean?”

Dean’s mouth fell open.  “ _You?_   You’re Castiel, the weird – I mean, the guy Sam’s been talking to?”  He clambered to his feet, groaning.  “What the _fuck,_ man?”

“Did Sam not tell you I was arriving today?” Castiel asked.

Dean rubbed his face.  “He…I don’t know. He might have mentioned it. It’s been a really long damn day, okay?”

“So you just forgot that you have a houseguest?” Castiel said flatly.

Dean glared at him.  “It’s been a _really long damn day,_ okay?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes.  Now that Dean wasn’t in imminent danger of bodily harm, he was able to take a minute and assess the man.  Dark, messy hair – well, he _had_ probably rolled out of bed when he heard Dean downstairs – stood up wildly over dark blue eyes, a high forehead and cheekbones so sharp Dean would probably cut himself punching him. Full lips were pursed in irritation, and…Dean straightened.

“Hey, whoa, how about we not blame _me_ for this misunderstanding, yeah?  I’m the one that nearly got his brains smeared on the wallpaper!”

Castiel dropped the bat and stalked toward the kitchen, back stiff with outrage. Dean followed, intrigue mixed with annoyance.

“Where are you going?”

“To make myself some tea,” Castiel said over his shoulder.  “I find after a shock, a hot cup of tea is the best way to soothe myself back to a relaxed state.”

“A ‘relaxed state’?” Dean snorted.  “Why not just smoke a blunt?  Works faster and you don’t have to drink _tea_.”

“Of course you would think that,” Castiel snapped.  They’d reached the kitchen and he began rummaging in the cupboards.

Dean rested a hip against the counter to watch him.  He could tell him where Sam kept the tea, but this way was a lot more entertaining.

“Toss me a beer, would you?” he said.

“Get it yourself,” Castiel said without turning.

“But you’re already on that side of the room!” Dean protested.

The other man ignored him, moving on to the next cupboard and beginning to ransack it.

Dean sighed and pushed past him, leaning in and grabbing a longneck bottle. Straightening, he turned to see Castiel staring at him.

“What?” he said, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” Castiel said, and turned back to his search.

Dean took pity on him.  “It’s to the right of the stove.” 

“You couldn’t have said that before I started looking?” Castiel griped, yanking open the cupboard and setting out the teabags.

“Probably.” Dean shrugged.  “More fun this way.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed again.  “I don’t like you.”

Dean gasped and clutched at his heart.  “Oh no, whatever will I _do?_ My life is ruined! I might as well give up my worldly possessions and buy a hair shirt and retire from the public eye; _Castiel doesn’t like me!_ ” He snorted a laugh and took another swig of beer.

Castiel’s mouth tightened further.  “On second thought, I don’t need tea.  I’m going to bed.” He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room.

“Sure you don’t want that blunt?” Dean called after him.

A slamming door was his only response.

Dean didn’t bother trying to stifle his laugh.  

 

He was up early the next morning, despite it being his day off, because Baby had been making a funny knocking noise and he was determined to figure out what was causing it. 

He turned on the radio and was hip-deep in Baby’s engine, grease up to his elbows and all over his ratty t-shirt, when Castiel interrupted him.

Dean levered himself back out from under the hood to see Castiel standing on the grass, glaring at him. 

Apparently a night’s sleep hadn’t improved the man’s disposition, judging from the scowl.

“Problem?” Dean inquired.  He wiped his face with the hem of his t-shirt.  When he looked up, Castiel’s mouth was hanging open slightly.

“ _What?_ ” Dean demanded, nettled. He wasn’t a damn circus display; he was trying to actually get some work done!

Castiel shook his head sharply and turned on his heel, disappearing back into the house.

“The hell was _that_ about?” Dean muttered, and turned back to his car.  He had shit to get done.

When he broke for lunch, Castiel was nowhere to be seen.  Dean shrugged and headed for the fridge.  He still had some pizza left over from the other night. Cold pizza, colder beer, that episode of Scandal he hadn’t actually watched the night before…perfect way to kick back.

He opened the fridge and frowned.  The pizza box was gone.

_What the hell?_

Dean started dragging out drawers and pawing through them, but the pizza had vanished. He straightened, mouth tight. Had Sam eaten it before he left and Dean just hadn’t noticed?  Surely not. No, he remembered it being in there when he’d grabbed the beer while Castiel was slamming around looking for the tea. And instead of the pizza box, there was a six-pack of some fancy microbrewed beer.

_Castiel._

Dean turned and nearly ran face-first into the man, who’d walked into the kitchen while Dean was busy in the fridge.

Dean yelped and jumped back.  “Goddammit, man, I’m gonna put a fuckin’ bell on you, you’re quieter than a _cat!”_

“That is not true,” Castiel said.  “I am perhaps quieter than some, but I am still demonstrably noisier than any cat I’ve ever met, and -”

Dean cut him off with a raised finger.  “Really, _really_ not the point. Did you eat the pizza that was in the fridge?”

Castiel grimaced.  “Of course not.”

“Oh,” Dean said.  “Good. So where is it?”

“I threw it out,” Castiel said, and stepped around Dean to open the cupboard.

“You did _what?”_ Dean demanded.

“I threw it out,” Castiel repeated.  “It was old and looked disgusting; all congealed grease and orange spots on the cardboard.” He shuddered delicately. “I did you a favor. You’re welcome.”

He pulled a bottle of Italian dressing out of the cabinet and set it on the counter, then started opening drawers.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience.  “You…threw out…my lunch.”

“I threw out some disgusting remnants of what once might have been charitably called pizza,” Castiel corrected, coming up with a potato peeler. “And you can thank me for preventing the inevitable case of food poisoning that would have followed, had you tried to eat it.”

“You…you…” Dean threw his hands in the air and turned on his heel to storm out of the kitchen before he murdered the man currently counting out potatoes.

“I will make enough lunch for both of us,” Castiel called after him.

“Don’t bother!” Dean shouted.  “I’m going out.”

It was his turn to slam the door this time. 

He drove to the diner and sat in the parking lot and steamed.  Who did this guy think he was, anyway?  He picked up the phone and called Sam.

“Hello?”

“Dude. What the fuck have you gotten me into?” Dean growled.

“Dean?”

“Who the hell else would it be?” Dean demanded.

“Right, sorry, of course.  Just, um…hang on a sec.”

There were muffled noises as if Sam had put his hand over the mouthpiece and was speaking to someone, and then he was back.  “What happened?  Is Castiel a nice guy?”

Dean snorted. “If by ‘nice’, you mean did he try to brain me with my own fucking baseball bat and then throw out the pizza I’d been saving for lunch, then yeah, he’s a _peach._ The hell, Sam? You really expect me to live with this guy for a _month?”_

“Wait, he tried to hit you with a baseball bat?” Sam said.  “Why?”

Dean sighed. “I…might have forgotten that he was due to arrive last night.  And I might have gotten home late and turned the lights on and made a lot of noise, but that’s no excuse!  He _attacked_ me, Sam!”

“Because he thought you were a burglar,” Sam said, and he sounded _amused._

Dean narrowed his eyes.  “I’m detecting a severe lack of sympathy here.”

“Dean, he thought you were trying to rob him; you’re lucky he didn’t have a gun! Now quit bitching, I’m tired of listening to you whine.  You apologized, right?”

Dean squirmed.  “Um.”

“ _Dean!”_

“Dude, I don’t even have to see you to know you’re bitchfacing me!” Dean snapped. “He fucking _attacked_ me and then he threw out my goddamn pizza, I am _not_ apologizing to that asshole! _He_ needs to apologize to _me!”_ He glared at the steering wheel. The leather was beginning to crack; he needed to replace it soon.

“Dean…”

“ _No,_ Sam, now stop it! How’s _your_ vacation going?  Met anyone interesting?”

“I flew into town yesterday afternoon, Dean, how in the hell would I have had time to meet anyone already?”

“Oh, so you _did_ meet someone!” Dean crowed, grinning in triumph.  “If you hadn’t, you’d’ve just said no.  Go on, tell me about her.  Is she hot? ‘D’you get her number? What’s she look like?”

A dead silence greeted this and Dean stifled a laugh.

“I’m hanging up now,” Sam informed him, and suited action to words.

Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket and got out of the car, grinning widely. Tormenting Sam never got old, but when it involved a girl, things automatically became even more fun.

 

**GABRIEL**

Sam put his phone away and turned back to Gabriel, who was watching the girls play in the backyard. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. 

Gabriel smiled at him.  “Sorry about eavesdropping, but…did Cas really try to hit Dean with a baseball bat?”

Sam wrinkled his nose, the same expression he’d worn right after giving Gabriel one of the best orgasms of his life, and Gabriel was suddenly back there in that hotel room, warm and sated and exhausted and Gabriel _wanted_ that again, with a desperate urgency that stole his breath.

“Gabe?” Sam’s face was concerned and Gabriel snapped back to himself.

“Sorry, so sorry, um…Vietnam flashbacks.”

“You’re too young to have fought in ‘Nam, Gabriel,” Sam said, scowling.

_Damn_.  “I’m fine, Sam, really,” Gabriel said.  “Can we please get back to the part where my cousin tried to kill your brother?”

Abigail came bounding up as Sam smiled despite the concern still in his eyes. “Apparently Dean forgot Cas was coming and he went barging in like the herd of water buffalo he is.”

Abigail gasped. “Who’s Dean?  And why’s he a herd of water buffalos?  Is he loud and clompy? Is he tall like you, Mr. Sam? Daddy, can I have a drink?”

Sam blinked at the barrage of questions as Gabriel caught Abigail’s hand and tugged her into his lap.  “Dean is Mr. Sam’s brother.   He is apparently _very_ loud and clompy, which means you’d probably like him. A lot.  I have no idea how tall he is.  And finally…” He lifted first one, then the other of Abigail’s legs, inspecting each carefully and nodding to himself.  “Hm.  Yes. It’s as I suspected. Your legs are in perfect working condition. And yet here you are, asking me for a drink.  Is it your hands? Oh God, have you suffered a horrible swingset tragedy and broken both your hands?” 

He grabbed Abigail’s hands, inspecting each finger as if with a magnifying glass while she squirmed and giggled.

“Nope,” he announced.  “Your hands are fine too.  So what on earth could be the problem?”

Abigail crossed her arms.  Gabriel could see Sam grinning out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his focus on Abigail, eyebrow raised.

“Bethy wants one too,” the little girl admitted.

Gabriel pretended to gasp.  “You’re trying to get me to get you a drink _just_ so you don’t have to get one for Beth as well?”

Abigail looked up at him through thick, dark eyelashes.  “Is it working?”

Gabriel burst out laughing.  “ _No,_ you little snotball, it is _not._ Now get your butt in the kitchen and get you _and_ your sister a drink.”

Abigail hopped off his lap and skipped into the house.

“Get us some too!” Gabriel called after her.  He caught Sam’s eye.  “She’s at that age where whatever Bethany wants, Abby wants the opposite. I’m told it should only last another twenty years, thirty at the most, and then we’re through the worst of it.”

Sam was grinning.  “And she can do it – get a drink, I mean – by herself?”

Gabriel shrugged. “When their mother got sick, I was…busy. A lot.  The food critic thing was just taking off and we couldn’t afford a home nurse or hospice; I was by Kali’s bedside almost all day and all night. I couldn’t take care of the girls the way they were used to.  Abs was almost four and Beth had just turned eight.  I taught Beth to do most of the stuff her mom and I had done for them both, and since then they’ve been very self-reliant.”

He fell silent for a moment, thinking about Kali and the way her olive skin had turned ashen and her eyes had seemed too large for her face, the way her hair had gone dull and brittle and she’d begged Gabriel to cut it all off because she couldn’t stand looking it another second _please Gabriel please I can’t bear it…_

“Gabriel?”

Gabriel startled out of his reverie.  _Shit._   “I’m sorry,” he said hastily.  “God, what a buzzkill. I’m a blast at parties, let me tell you.”

Sam was shaking his head.  “No,” he said. “I’m just… _I’m_ sorry.”

Abigail appeared in the doorway with two glasses of lemonade, looking triumphant, and Gabriel hailed her arrival with a cry that was equal parts relieved and congratulatory.

“This’s for you,” she informed Sam, who gasped and took the glass from her.

“Thank you! But I don’t have any cash for a tip,” he told her, looking forlorn, and Abigail giggled again.

“She accepts kisses as payment,” Gabriel said offhandedly and Abigail nodded.

“Oh, well, in _that_ case…” Sam said, and set his lemonade aside, grabbing the tiny girl’s shoulders and holding her out for assessment.  She squirmed, laughing, as Sam looked at Gabriel.  “What do you think, Gabe?  One on the cheek? The nose?  The ear?  Ooh, the elbow!”

Gabriel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.  God, Sam was _good_ with kids.  He seemed to know instinctively what was called for, how to speak to them without sounding condescending or placatory, and both girls were already head over heels for him.

“Start with the cheek and see if she lets you go with that,” he said, sipping his drink and smiling.

Sam grabbed Abigail and pulled her in close, planting a loud smacking kiss on her cheek.  Abigail wriggled and laughed and tapped her other cheek, waiting until Sam pretended to sigh and kissed her there too.  Finally she deemed his payment satisfactory and dashed back in the house to fetch drinks for herself and Bethany.

Sam leaned back in his chair, grinning.  “I really like your kids,” he said.

“Thanks,” Gabriel said.  “They like you too, which is why we need to talk.”

Sam’s eyebrows drew together.  “Uh, okay?”

“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Gabriel said, “But we can’t…you know.”

“No,” Sam said after a moment, “I _don’t_ know. Explain, please?”

“We can’t…um…see each other any more,” Gabriel said.  He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes.

“Oh,” Sam said flatly.  “Okay.”

_That was easy._

“It’s just that…they’re going to get attached to you.  And if they see that I like you as much as I do, they’re going to get _really_ attached to you, and they won’t want you to go and it’ll break their hearts because you live in Nashville and we live _here_ and Sam, why are you looking at me like that?”

Sam was _smiling,_ his eyes gleaming.

Gabriel stared at him.  “Seriously, Sam, what the hell?”

Sam made air quotes with his fingers.  “You ‘like me’,” he said.

Gabriel mentally went back over what he’d said.  He’d said…oh _shit._

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said hastily.

One eyebrow went up.  “Yes you did.”

“Goddammit, stop being so perceptive!” Gabriel complained, slumping back against the chaise longue. 

Sam’s smile widened and he stood up.  “Girls!” he shouted, making Gabriel sit bolt upright in his chair.

Both dark heads snapped up from where they were busy in the sandbox.

“Your daddy and I need to talk about grownup stuff inside the house for just a second,” Sam called.  “Can we trust you to stay right there and not run out in the street and play in traffic?”

Even from this distance, Gabriel could see Bethany’s eye-roll, and he snickered in spite of the nerves tightening his stomach.

Sam turned to him and gestured toward the house.  “Shall we?”

Gabriel headed inside, every sense heightened.  Sam wasn’t touching him but Gabriel could _feel_ him, right behind him.

“Do you have an office or study?” Sam asked.

Gabriel pointed and Sam raised an eyebrow again.  “Show me.”

What _was_ it about this side of Sam that got Gabriel’s engine revving so much?   He stepped into that dominant personality and Gabriel’s heart started racing, his mouth got dry, his palms sweaty. 

Gabriel led the way into the study and Sam closed the door behind him, turning to consider Gabriel, who was standing in the middle of the room feeling a little lost.

“How about I tell you how I see this playing out?” Sam asked.

Gabriel waited and Sam took a step toward him.

“See, I think you’ve been alone for too long.  You’re used to calling the shots, used to having your orders instantly obeyed. Well, for a given measure of ‘instantly’, considering Bethany at least seems to have definitely inherited your sass.”

Gabriel couldn’t help his grin at that but sobered when Sam took another step.

“So you think you can just pick me up, share some amazing sex with me and then expect me to be satisfied with that, all because you think the girls might get attached and be heartbroken when I leave.”

Gabriel bit his lip and Sam took another step.

“I can understand not wanting to upset them,” Sam said.  “So…we won’t.”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped up to his face and Sam met his gaze, one eyebrow quirking as he moved a little closer.

“As far as they know,” Sam said, his voice calm, “I’ll just be the guy next door, living in Uncle Cas’s house.  I’ll hang out with you guys, you can show me the sights, I’ll come over and eat dinner when you invite me, go to the zoo with you – do y’all have a zoo?”

Gabriel shook his head, mesmerized.

“Pity,” Sam commented, and somehow he was closer still.

“And in a month,” he continued, “I’ll go back to Nashville, and you’ll take me to the airport and say goodbye to me and I’ll write to the girls until they forget about me.”  

He was nearly toe-to-toe with Gabriel, who was frozen in his tracks.

“Now,” Sam whispered, his voice dark and smoky, “Ask me what you and I will _really_ be doing during that month.”

It took Gabriel several tries to clear his throat enough to speak. He opened his mouth…and Sam pounced.

Long arms snaked around Gabriel, jerking him in tight, and then Sam’s mouth was on his and Gabriel couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t _move_ except to kiss back frantically, his own arms twining around Sam’s neck as he went up on tiptoe to lick his way inside Sam’s welcoming heat.

When they broke for air, Gabriel held on tight, willing strength back into his suddenly shaky legs.

“Does that answer your question?” Sam asked.

Gabriel pulled away for a moment, Sam protesting wordlessly, and then _jumped,_ wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist and balancing himself with hands on Sam’s shoulders.

He grinned in triumph down at Sam’s laughing face. 

“Does that answer _yours?_ ” Gabriel countered, and lowered his head to kiss Sam again, hard and demanding.

Gabriel wasn’t the only one out of breath when they broke the next time.

“Yeah,” Sam managed.  “I guess it does.”

Gabriel smiled and then sobered.  “The girls _can’t know,_ Sam. I’m serious.  They just can’t.”

“Would it really be so bad?” Sam asked gently.

Gabriel let his legs slacken and he slid to the ground, steadying himself with hands on Sam’s arms, enjoying the flex of the muscles beneath the shirt.

“It’s not you,” Gabriel said.  “It’s that…Bethany especially has been after me to find someone for the past year. She’s going to fall in love with you herself, but more so, she’s going to throw me at your head.”

“I think I just proved I can catch you,” Sam pointed out, smiling.

Gabriel made a frustrated noise and turned away, but Sam caught his arm and gently pulled him back around.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I shouldn’t be cracking jokes.  You’re afraid she’s going to get too attached.”

Gabriel nodded and turned to the window, glancing out.  Abigail was still in the sandbox but Bethany was nowhere in sight. “If she thinks there’s even a _whisper_ of attraction between us, she won’t stop, Sam.  And she’ll be absolutely devastated when you leave, more so than you can imagine. She’s already lost her mother; if she gets attached to you too, she may never recover.  I can’t…I _won’t_ risk that.”

The office door opened and Bethany poked her head inside.  Both men jumped and Gabriel thanked his lucky stars they’d been on opposite sides of the room.

“Daddy? I want to make cookies. Can I?”

“May I,” Gabriel corrected absently.  “Go ahead, kiddo. Clean up after yourself this time.”

Bethany shot a smile at Sam, who was standing frozen in the middle of the room, and disappeared.

“First rule of being in a house with kids,” Gabriel said, grinning. “You want some alone time, you _lock_ the damn door.”

Sam blinked, and then he grinned too, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “Does that mean we’re doing this?”

Gabriel nodded and a laugh bubbled up, disbelieving but delighted.  “Yeah,” he finally said.  “Yeah, I think we are.”


	4. Chapter 4

**CASTIEL**

 

It had been three days, and Castiel was rapidly reaching his breaking point. Sam had seemed so _nice_ on the phone and via email.  He’d sworn that Dean worked long hours and would likely never even cross Castiel’s path, that Dean was fine with the house-swapping idea, and Castiel would not have to so much as think about him.

He’d been disabused of that notion the night he arrived and Dean went stomping through the house like a herd of disgruntled elephants.  Anyone else would have come to the conclusion that there was an intruder too; it wasn’t just Castiel being paranoid!

Sitting in Sam’s room, on Sam’s very large, very comfortable bed, Castiel groaned and let his face fall into his hands.  Dean was mowing.  Dean was mowing _very loudly,_ right under Castiel’s window, from what Castiel could determine without looking.

It was six am on a Saturday and Dean was _mowing._ Bad enough, the disgusting pizza and the swill Dean called beer and the deep-fried fat he claimed was “food”. Bad enough he was there every time Castiel turned around, cracking jokes, bending over and giving Castiel a tantalizing but _unwanted_ view of his ass, or lifting his shirt and flashing his abs, with just a hint of softness around his stomach, but clearly a wall of solid muscle underneath.

No, he had to get up insanely early, make as much racket as possible, and in general disrupt Castiel’s vacation in every way he could.

Castiel gritted his teeth and stood up.  Enough was enough.  _This_ time, he was going to tell Dean exactly what he thought. He wasn’t going to get derailed by the way Dean’s jeans hugged his legs, or the way the muscles in his back moved under his t-shirt when Dean reached for something.

He jogged down the stairs, nerving himself to tell Dean just exactly what an inconsiderate _ass_ he was being, yanked open the front door and stumbled out onto the lawn, blinking in the early morning sunlight.

Dean was passing with the mower and he glanced up and then killed the engine when he saw Castiel standing there.

“What’d I do this time?” he asked, tone weary.

Castiel stared at him.  Dean was covered in sweat and grass clippings, his shirt clinging to him and damp through in several places. There was a smear of dirt on his forehead where he must have wiped his arm.   Castiel had come out to say something.  He was sure he had.  He opened and closed his mouth several times.

“Dude, the goldfish routine is getting really fucking old,” Dean snapped. “If you don’t have anything to say, maybe I could get back to doing my chores?”

Castiel jerked out of his reverie of what Dean’s sweat would taste like on his tongue. “What time is it, Dean?”

“You came out to ask me that?” Dean said, bewildered.  He glanced at his watch.  “It’s six fifteen…oh shit.  On a Saturday.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Sam would _kill_ me,” he mumbled to himself.

Castiel turned on his heel.

“Cas, wait,” Dean said.

Castiel stopped.  _Cas?_   “What?” he said over his shoulder.

“Look,” Dean said, bounding up onto the porch next to him, close enough that Castiel could smell aftershave and mown grass and clean sweat.

Castiel swallowed hard.

“I’m an early riser,” Dean said. 

_His eyes are almost emerald green,_ Castiel noted vaguely.  Dean’s proximity was making his head swim, which was making him angry. He didn’t _like_ this man, why was he so physically attracted to him?

Dean was still talking.  “Sam gets up as early as me, if not earlier.  He’s always bitching about respect for the neighbors and most of the time I try not to listen, but I didn’t even _think_ about how early it was.  I just knew I needed to mow the grass because I didn’t get to on my last day off.”

_The day I threw out his pizza,_ Castiel thought, guilt pricking him.

“Anyway, I’m sorry.” Dean tried a smile and Castiel caught his breath. The smile transformed his face from pretty to gorgeous, setting his green eyes dancing, full lips curving up.

“It’s fine,” Castiel said shortly.  He needed to get inside before he made a complete fool of himself.

Dean caught him before he could leave.  “Listen, let me make it up to you.  Have you eaten at the Pancake Pantry yet?”

Castiel shook his head, bewildered.

Dean’s smile widened.  “Perfect! Let me get showered, meet me downstairs in twenty minutes, and I’ll buy you breakfast.  What do you say?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed.  “Why would you do that?” he asked.

Dean shrugged.  “Because I was an ass and I want to apologize?  Doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

Castiel thought it over.  He _was_ hungry.  And Dean seemed sincere.

“Fine,” he said abruptly.  “Twenty minutes.”

 

He was downstairs, dressed in a crisp white shirt and pressed black slacks, at the precisely allotted time.  Dean appeared a few minutes later, tugging on a grey Henley.  His head popped through the neck hole and he grinned at Castiel.

“Don’t you ever relax?  Let down your hair?”

Castiel looked down at himself.  “I _am_ relaxed,” he said, confused.  “This is quite comfortable.”

“Wow,” Dean said, busy tucking in his shirt.  Castiel studiously didn’t notice the hipbone that was briefly bared before being covered again.  “We have _got_ to get you laid, man.”

“I don’t see what having sex would accomplish,” Castiel said, following him to Dean’s car and settling in the passenger’s seat.

“Then you’ve been doing it all wrong,” Dean said, laughing.  He started the car and the roar of the engine settled to a dull grumble.  “I’m gonna take the scenic route, show you some of the sights of Nashville that you may not have seen yet.”

True to his word, they spent the next half hour visiting some of Dean’s favorite places, including the Batman building (“It’s the bat signal, right there!”) and the Bluebird Café (“I’ll take you there for dinner one of these days. Even if you don’t like country music, there’s a law that states that if you’re in Nashville, you have to eat at the Bluebird Café.”) and Music Row (“This is where most of the studios are. If you sing and get a record deal, you end up here.”).

Dean’s eyes sparkled as he pointed out landmarks, telling Castiel about them with great enthusiasm.  Castiel found himself relaxing and enjoying the drive, especially watching Dean as he drove, hands sure and steady on the wheel, no unnecessary movements.

“You love it here,” Castiel commented when Dean ran down.

Dean cast him a glance as he pulled the Impala into a parking space several blocks over from the Pancake Pantry.  “Well, yeah. I was raised here. I’ve never lived anywhere else.” They climbed out of the car and fell into step beside each other down the sidewalk.

“But I’ve always wanted to travel,” Dean confessed as they walked. “Maybe one of these days. Right now I’ve got the diner, and Sam needs me.”

“How does Sam need you?” Castiel inquired.  There was a line of people stretching out of the building and down the block.

Dean winked at him.  “If he didn’t have someone here to brush his hair and read him bedtime stories, there’s no telling the kind of mischief he’d get into.”

“But he is twenty-six years old,” Castiel protested.  “Surely he doesn’t actually need your help.”

They bypassed the line and Dean held the door open for him. 

“Don’t tell _him_ that,” Dean said, grinning. “I’ve raised him for so long I’m in the habit now and I don’t know how to stop.”  He lifted a hand to the heavyset man behind the counter. “Roger, how’s it going?”

“Dean!” Roger exclaimed, beaming.  “Here for breakfast?”

“If you can squeeze us in,” Dean said.

Castiel cast an uneasy look at the queue of people that stretched out the door. “Shouldn’t we be waiting in line?” he asked under his breath.

“Where’s the fun in _that?_ ” Dean said as Roger showed them to a hastily cleared table.  “Roger and I have an arrangement.  He eats at my place whenever he wants, same goes for me here.  Works out nicely for both of us.”

A middle-aged woman with straggly brown hair and a gap between her front teeth handed them menus with a warm smile. 

“I recommend the sweet potato pancakes,” Dean said, and Castiel nodded and placed his order.

Dean draped his arm across the back of the booth after the waitress left and fixed Castiel with a sharp eye. 

“So, Cas, why Nashville?”

Castiel shrugged, resisting the urge to squirm under Dean’s intense gaze.

“I just wanted…away.  I posted my house on the website and your brother messaged me.  I thought Nashville seemed as good a place as any.”

“Uh huh.” Dean took a sip of orange juice.  “So…why’d you leave?”

“I don’t…see how that’s any of your business,” Castiel said.

Dean laughed and Castiel realized he liked the sound of it, easy and free.

“Of course it’s my business, dude, you’re living with me for the next month. Am I going to have an angry ex showing up on my doorstep, demanding your head on a stick?”

“No, nothing like that,” Castiel said.  “He…it doesn’t matter.”

“So there _is_ someone,” Dean said. “Go on, tell Uncle Dean all the gory details.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes.  “You are not amusing.”

Dean winked at him.  “Yes I am. Tell me about this guy.”

Castiel sighed and fiddled with his fork.  “His name…is Balthazar.  I work for the Coquille Valley Museum and he drives a delivery truck.  He’s British, always ready with a joke, usually a dirty one that I don’t understand and have to look up later.  He’s…nice. I like him.”

“How long have you been crushing on him?” Dean asked.

“Two years,” Castiel muttered, glaring at his plate.

“Two _years?_ ” Dean gasped. “Two fucking years you’ve been pining for this guy?  Have you said _anything_ in that time?”

Castiel shifted his weight and said nothing.

Dean burst out laughing.  Castiel looked up and glared at him, which only made the other man laugh harder.

“Dude, I thought my brother knew how to nurse a crush, but _you._ Sam’s got nothin’ on you!”

“You can stop laughing now,” Castiel snapped, and of course Dean ignored him, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“So what sent you off in such a tizzy?” Dean said when he finally sobered.

Castiel slumped down in his seat.  The waitress brought their food and Castiel waited until she was gone before he spoke.

“He got engaged,” he finally said.  “Told me all about it when he brought the weekly delivery.  He was so excited.  I’d been…I was going to ask him out the next time I saw him.”

Dean winced. “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.  So you ran?”

“I suppose you could see it that way,” Castiel said, cutting into his pancakes and taking a bite.  His eyes widened. “Oh.  Oh, these are…”

“They are, aren’t they?” Dean said, grinning. 

The rest of the meal passed in silence, but something had eased between them, replaced by a comfortable peace.  Dean was still brash, still loud and obnoxious, but Castiel found himself liking him anyway.

 

**SAM**

Sam was frustrated.  It didn’t seem to matter that they’d agreed to embark on a physical relationship; it had been three days and he still hadn’t managed to get Gabriel alone. One or the other of the girls was forever dashing through whatever room they were in, and no matter how much Sam ached to pin Gabriel down, tear his clothes off and devour him on the living room floor, he was respecting Gabriel’s wishes.

The past several evenings, he’d spent at Gabriel’s, thinking maybe that night was when he was going to get lucky.  And both nights, they’d ended up cuddled on the couch, Gabriel between Sam’s legs, making out like teenagers.

Which had been fantastic, but Abigail had woken up like clockwork both nights, screaming for her mother, and Gabriel had scrambled out of Sam’s lap and rushed to soothe her.

And Sam had waited and waited and eventually let himself out, heading back to Castiel’s empty house, where nothing but a disdainful ball of fluff and a cold bed awaited him.

Both mornings Gabriel had been so sorry and Sam had had to kiss him to stop the apologies that tumbled from him. 

“It’s just that she has night terrors,” Gabriel told him the second day when Sam came by for breakfast.  “We’ve tried everything, and none of it has helped.  But it’s not _every_ night. She’s due for a night off soon. And spring break will be over next week and they’ll be back in school. And then…” He took a step forward and Sam arched a brow. 

“Girls are in the dining room,” he murmured.

Gabriel scowled and stepped back again.  “Why did I have kids again?” he complained as Abigail bounced into the room.

“Because we’re _cute!_ ” she chirped, and Gabriel laughed and scooped her up, kissing her neck until she giggled.

“That you are, you little punk.  What are you up to?”

“I came to see if Mr. Sam wants to go to the park with us,” Abigail said.

Gabriel turned to Sam, pressing his cheek to Abigail’s, and Sam found himself confronted with golden eyes and black blinking heavy lashes at him, smiles tugging at identical mobile lips.

“What do you say, Mr. Sam?” Gabriel said.  “Wanna go to the park?”

Sam shrugged, affecting unconcern.  “I’ll have to check my calendar,” he said.  “But it’s a distinct possibility.”

“That means yes,” Gabriel confided to Abigail, who wriggled with glee.

“I gotta go tell Bethy,” she said, and dashed out of the room.

 

They spent a relaxing hour at the park, sitting on the bench watching the girls play. Sam was slowly going out of his mind, having Gabriel so close and being unable to touch him.  It didn’t help that Gabriel didn’t seem affected at all, laughing and telling jokes and calling advice to the girls.

 

They walked home side by side, the girls running ahead down the street. Gabriel’s hand brushed Sam’s every few steps but his eyes stayed straight ahead, watching Bethany as she pointed out a bird’s nest to Abigail.

Sam swallowed hard and kept walking.

He begged off going back to their house, claiming that he still had unpacking to do and Persephone needed attention.

“It’s true,” Gabriel agreed.  “If she doesn’t get it, she’ll take a dump on your bed.  Your pillow, if you’ve really pissed her off.”

Sam waved goodbye on the porch and went inside, closing the door and leaning back against the wall.  Day three and he was already about to lose his mind.

There was a knock on the door and Sam blinked, startled.  He wasn’t expecting company.

Gabriel was standing on the porch.  The second Sam opened the door, Gabriel jumped, climbing Sam like a tree and attacking his mouth.

Sam staggered backward under the onslaught, retaining just enough presence of mind to shut the door before giving himself over to the man kissing him like it was going out of style.

He wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s waist and hung on for dear life as Gabriel’s tongue dipped and slid against his, hot little stabs that seemed designed to drive Sam out of his mind.  Sam groaned and tightened his grip with one arm, reaching up with the other to pull Gabriel’s head closer.

Gabriel finally broke the kiss, nibbling his way down Sam’s neck. Sam tilted his head to give him better access even as something niggled at his brain.

“Gabe…” he gasped.  “The girls…”

“Getting lunch ready,” Gabriel mumbled, his mouth busy.  “Told ‘em…I forgot to ask you something.”

Sam tangled his fingers in Gabriel’s hair and pulled his head upright. Gabriel blinked down at him, pupils blown and lips kiss-swollen.  He looked dazed, half out of his mind, and Sam wanted desperately to drag him upstairs and have his way with him. 

Gabriel licked his lips, staring at Sam’s mouth, and Sam smiled, loosening his grip enough that Gabriel could dive back in and capture his lips again.

“I want you,” Gabriel whispered against his skin.  “I want you so much I can’t think straight.”

Sam shuddered.  The evidence of Gabriel’s desire was pressed against his abdomen and it was making thinking very difficult. He kissed back instead, delving inside Gabriel’s mouth, telling him wordlessly how much Gabriel was wanted in return.

Finally Gabriel unlocked his legs and slid to the ground.  Sam whined as Gabriel backed away, putting distance between them.

Gabriel grinned, adjusting himself.  “Anyway. Just wanted to tell you that.”

“Wait!”

Gabriel paused, halfway out the door, eyebrow raised.

“Did you actually have a question or was that just something to throw the girls off the scent?”

“Oh, I did! Friends of mine and I are trying a new restaurant in town Monday, the day the girls go back to school. I prefer to go in groups of three or four when I’m working; helps keep the restaurant from realizing who I am.”

“Okay…” Sam said.

“So, do you want to be my date?” Gabriel asked, cocking his head and smiling.

Sam blinked. “I…oh.  Yeah, I guess I could do that.  What should I wear?”

“If I had my preference?  As little as possible. But that might get us thrown out of the restaurant, so let’s go with business casual.”

Sam snorted a laugh and Gabriel slipped out the door.

He turned and Persephone was at the top of the stairs, regarding him coolly.

“Hey, fuzzbutt,” Sam greeted her, “Did you see all that?  I hope you were taking notes.”

Persephone gave him an irritated look and disappeared for parts unknown.

“You’d better not take a shit on my bed!” Sam called after her, and headed for the kitchen. Snobby cats notwithstanding, it was time for lunch. 

 

**DEAN**

 

Dean showed Castiel a few more sights on the way home from the Pancake Pantry. He was beginning to reevaluate his opinion of the uptight, controlled, strait-laced man.  Castiel had a sneaky sense of humor hidden under that button-down shirt and several times Dean had caught his lips twitching at one of Dean’s off-color (but always hilarious) jokes.  And Dean had been unable to help noticing the way Castiel’s mouth had wrapped around the fork on each bite and the moan he’d given when the first taste of sweet potato pancake hit his tongue.

He dropped Castiel back at the house with a wave, vaguely citing errands as his reason for not staying.

In reality, he was feeling the itch and it needed to be scratched.  He dug his phone out of his pocket as he drove.

“H’lo?”

“Hey, you free?” Dean asked.

Benny’s chuckle was deep and amused.  “For you, always.  When you be here?”

“Five minutes.” Dean hung up and drove.

Benny opened his door with a smile on his face.  “Been a while, man.”

“You see me at work every day,” Dean pointed out, pushing past him and tugging his shirt off as he headed for the bedroom.

“That’s not what I meant,” Benny said, following him and resting one meaty shoulder in the doorway.

Dean shrugged and shoved his boots and pants off, sprawling on the bed. “Been busy.  Shut up and get in here.”

Benny lifted his eyebrows and obeyed.

When Dean came, it was to the thought of dark blue eyes and messy black hair.

 

He left Benny’s house still feeling vaguely unsettled.  The sex had helped a little, but as much as he liked Benny, there was no emotional attachment there.  That had been a big part of why he and Benny had always worked; neither of them expected anything more than the occasional getting their rocks off together. But Dean wanted… _something._   He didn’t know what, and the thought was making him twitchy.

Pulling back up at the house, he blinked at the sight of a fully mown lawn. He’d left it half done, intent on apologizing to Castiel for his thoughtlessness.

Dean pushed open the front door and froze.  Castiel was in Dean’s favorite chair, feet up and the backrest reclining, sound asleep. He looked peaceful and Dean realized with a rush of guilt that there were dark circles under his eyes.

_Your fault,_ a tiny voice whispered.

Dean tiptoed by, heading for his apartment in the basement.  Let the poor guy sleep.  Thanks to Dean, he needed it.

He spent the afternoon organizing his vinyl collection, and when he climbed the stairs to start making dinner, Castiel was nowhere to be seen. Dean headed for the kitchen. He had a couple of steaks that he’d been meaning to grill.  Maybe Castiel would eat with him.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and glanced up to see Castiel above him.

“Hey, get a good nap?”

Castiel straightened his shirt and came down the steps.  “Yes, thank you.  I’m sorry, I was in your chair, wasn’t I?  I shouldn’t have -”

“Nah man, it’s fine,” Dean interrupted.  “You looked good there.”

A faint frown appeared on Castiel’s forehead.  “I looked…good?”

“I mean, uh, you looked like you were getting good sleep,” Dean said hastily, kicking himself.  “I didn’t, um…you hungry?”

Castiel stared at him for a minute.  “I could eat,” he allowed.

“You eat red meat, right?”

Castiel’s mouth quirked.  “Yes, Dean, I am an unabashed carnivore.”

“Look at that,” Dean said, slapping him on the back, “We’re discovering redeeming qualities about you all the time.”

Castiel followed him into the kitchen, still frowning a little.  “I do not see what enjoying the occasional steak has to do with me being a good or decent person.”

Dean groaned. “Dude.  I was trying to give you a compliment.  Just…go with it, would you?”

“Oh.” Castiel was silent, watching Dean pull ingredients from the refrigerator and set them on the counter.

“Here.” Dean tossed him the bag of potatoes from the drawer next to the stove and Castiel caught them clumsily. “Make yourself useful.”

“What do you want me to do?” Castiel said.

“Wash ‘em and wrap ‘em in foil.  I’ll stick ‘em on the grill first, let them start cooking while I prep the other stuff.”

Castiel obeyed and Dean hummed as he worked, slicing the rest of the rabbit food and piling it in bowls to be put on the grill in order.

“You like bell peppers?” he asked over his shoulder, and turned enough to catch Castiel’s shudder.

“No thank you,” was all Castiel said though.

Dean snorted a laugh.  “Hope for you yet, pal. So. Tell me what you’ve been doing in your spare time, when I haven’t been bugging the shit outta you.”

“Oh, I went to the Hermitage,” Castiel said, setting a potato on the counter and washing the next.

“Boring,” Dean said.  “What else?”

“Andrew Jackson’s home is not boring, Dean!” Castiel said.  “After that I went to the battlefields in Franklin, and I was planning on going to the Metro Arts soon.”

“ _So_ boring,” Dean said. “Please tell me you’ve done something _fun._ ”

Castiel bristled.  “Art and history are enthralling, not boring.  What would you suggest, that I go to the Gaylord Opryland Hotel?” 

“It’s a start,” Dean said judiciously.  “You’re on vacation, dude, you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself!”

“I _am_ enjoying myself, Dean,” Castiel snapped, “When I’m not being woken up at six am on a Saturday, that is!”

There was a pause.

“Okay, so you have a point,” Dean conceded.  “But still.  You need to branch out some, broaden your touristy tastes.”

“As a first-time visitor to your city, I’m sadly at a loss as to how exactly I’m supposed to do that,” Castiel said primly.  He scooped the foil-wrapped potatoes into a bowl and followed Dean out onto the back porch. 

“I _was_ thinking of going to the symphony at some point,” he continued as Dean took the potatoes from him.

Dean tilted his head back and pretended to snore.  When he straightened, Castiel was glaring at him.  And okay, that was way more fun than it should be, the way those dark blue eyes flashed and those full lips tightened, a crease forming between his brows.

Dean cleared his throat and started setting potatoes on the grill, closing the lid and heading back inside.

“Seriously,” he said as he headed for the living room.  “What you need is a guide.  Someone who can show you the city properly.”

“Are you volunteering, Dean?” Castiel asked, standing in the doorway and considering him with suspicion.

Dean thought about it as he settled into his favorite chair.  Spend more time with the uptight man with the gorgeous blue eyes, needling him about his nerdy interests, making those lips flatten with irritation, maybe goad snippy remarks from him?  So what if he was?  Besides, he was discovering a deep-seated urge to hear Castiel say his name in that deep, gravelly voice, as many times as possible.

“I guess I am,” he said, cracking open his beer.

“But you have work,” Castiel protested, coming into the living room and sitting down on the couch to stare at him.

Dean shrugged and picked up the remote.  “I _own_ the place, dude. I can take a week off. It’ll still be standing when I go back.”

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked.

Dean turned the TV on.  “’Course I’m sure. Now shut up, I _still_ haven’t watched this episode.”

Castiel glanced at the TV.  “Oh, Scandal! I haven’t seen the most recent episode.” He arranged himself more comfortably on the couch while Dean stared at him, then glanced up, meeting his eyes.  “What?”

“Nothing,” Dean said hastily, turning back to the TV.  “Nothing at all.  Oh hey, did you, uh…finish mowing the lawn this morning?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “I felt it was the least I could do, after causing you to leave it half-finished. Besides, I can’t abide a job partially done.”

“Huh. Well…thanks,” Dean said.

“You’re welcome.  Please be quiet, I want to hear the dialogue.”

Dean snorted and shut up, taking another swig of beer and watching Castiel out of the corner of his eye.  It was looking like the dude had hidden depths.


	5. Chapter 5

**GABRIEL**

_Abigail’s birthday party._

Gabriel jerked upright from where he was pulling the pizza out of the oven.

“Shit!”

There were twin gasps from the girls. 

“Daddy said a bad wo-ord!” Abigail sing-songed and Bethany giggled.

“Swear jar, Daddy,” she said, pointing.

Gabriel grumbled and dug his wallet out, shoving a dollar into the jar. His mind was working furiously. The invites had gone out weeks ago, and he’d forgotten all about it.  It was _tonight,_ and it was official: he was the worst father in the world.

He groaned and set the tray on the stove.  He had to get party supplies.  How could he have forgotten?  Abigail had talked of little else for _weeks._ Well, he’d been distracted lately. He smiled to himself as he grabbed the pizza knife and began to cut slices.  The source of his distraction was currently next door, doing whatever young lawyers did in their spare time on vacation when they weren’t driving middle-aged food critics out of their minds.

He dragged his mind back to the problem at hand.  Party supplies.  _Food._   Eight little girls ate a staggering amount; he already knew that much.  Thankfully, Abigail’s presents had been bought and wrapped ages ago, stashed in his closet where she knew not to go.  All he had to do was get the house ready. Movies.  He needed movies the girls would enjoy. 

He couldn’t decorate the house with Abigail around.  It needed to be a surprise.  Which meant he needed a place to stash her for an hour while he ran to the store and then worked on the house for a while.

Normally he’d call Kali’s parents, but they were all the way across town and they had a function to attend, and he only had a few hours to work his magic.  _Shit._ At least that time he managed to keep it silent.

He picked up the house phone and called Sam, ignoring the fact that he somehow already had his number memorized.

“Hello?”

“Sam, I need your help,” Gabriel said.  He set the pizza in front of the girls.  “Are you at the house?  Can I come over for a sec?”

“Sure,” Sam said.  “Should I be dressed?”

“Very funny,” Gabriel said dryly.  “Be right there.”

He hung up and turned to Bethany.  “I need to go ask Mr. Sam something.  You two stay right here and eat your lunch, I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“But you already asked him about eating with you next week!” Bethany pointed out. “And how come you can’t ask him over the phone?”

“Different question, Beths,” Gabriel said, dropping a kiss on her hair. “And I don’t like talking over the phone; I prefer to do it in person.  You know that!  Be right back.” He was out the door before she could say anything else.

Sam opened the door with a gleam in his eye, grabbing Gabriel’s wrist in one big hand and tugging him inside.

“Sam -”

Sam’s mouth cut Gabriel off, hot and devouring.  Gabriel froze, indecision warring within him.  _Abigail’s party…but Sam…_ Fuck it.

He kissed back, hard, going up on tiptoe and wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck. It was several minutes before Sam broke away and began to pull Gabriel’s shirt out of his jeans.

“Whoa, no, wait!” Gabriel exclaimed, grabbing Sam’s hands.

Sam looked up, disappointment flashing across his expressive face.

“I really do have another question,” Gabriel said, trying to ignore the guilt that rushed through him.  He’d been cockblocking Sam without meaning to for three days now, and no matter how much he swore it was unintentional, he still felt awful about it. 

“Um, okay,” Sam said, pulling away and running his hands through his hair.

“I need someone to watch the girls for an hour while I go to the store,” Gabriel said. “I’d ask their grandparents but time is of the essence and they’re all the way across town and normally I’d just ask Cas but as you can see…”

“He’s not here.” Sam nodded.  “Well…I’ve never babysat before, but I think I’ll survive.  Sure.  When?”

“Soon as they’re done with lunch,” Gabriel said, relief sweeping the guilt away. “Thank you.  _So much._ ”

“You haven’t heard my terms yet,” Sam said.

Gabriel froze.  “Uh…my kingdom for your babysitting services?”

“Nah, I’m not that expensive,” Sam said, laughing.  “I just require a kiss.”

“Oh. I can do that.” Gabriel took a step toward him and Sam held up a hand.

“Uh-uh. Not now.”

Gabriel stared at him, confused.

“When I choose, where I choose.  When I tell you I want my kiss, you have to pay up.  Those are my terms.”

Gabriel blinked.  “But…”

Sam folded his arms.  “Take it or leave it.”

“Take it!” Gabriel said hastily.  “I’ll, uh…take it.”

“Good!” Sam said.  “Bring the girls over when you’re ready.  What’re you shopping for?”

“Oh, I’m having a sleepover tonight,” Gabriel said as he turned for the door. He saw the delight that flashed across Sam’s face but didn’t register it until he was halfway across the yard. “Shit!”  Did Sam think Gabriel was talking about _him?_  

Gabriel wavered, then cast a look at his watch and swore again.  He’d have to clear up the misunderstanding later. He didn’t have time just then.

 

He got back from the store and staggered into the house an hour later, laden down with bags.  Bethany had declined to help decorate this time.

“Abigail might be shy about staying by herself with Sam,” she’d told Gabriel when he asked if she wanted to.  “I’d better stay and make sure she’s okay.”

Gabriel snorted to himself as he deposited his armloads and headed back out to the car. Yeah, sure, she was all concerned about her sister.  More like she wanted time to sigh over Sam’s very nice biceps and the way his dimples flashed when he smiled.  In that way, Bethany _definitely_ took after her father.

He set to work putting food away and hanging streamers.  This evening was going to be _hell._ He’d managed to keep Abigail limited to only inviting eight of her very best friends, and Bethany was only having one friend to keep her company during the madness, but Gabriel was still having trouble remembering why he’d thought it was a good idea to have eleven pre-teen girls running amok through his house in the first place.

When everything was in place, he stood back and examined his work, hands on hips. It would do and the guests would be arriving soon.  Time to get the girls.

He heard the laughter first, and he glanced out the window to see Sam on the back lawn with Bethany and Abigail, holding a football.  _Where had that thing even come from?_ Gabriel wondered.

Sam gestured at both girls, who separated and waited while Sam pretended to hike the ball before throwing it gently to Abigail, a few feet away. She flailed and missed it, scrambling to pick it up.  Sam waited while she turned back, shoulders slumped, and handed the ball to him.

Then he held up a finger to Bethany in a _wait_ motion and bent down to look into Abigail’s face.  Gabriel couldn’t hear what they were seeing, and he pressed closer to the glass even though he knew it wouldn’t help.

Abigail shook her head, still staring at the ground, and Sam put a long finger under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him as he spoke.

After a moment a smile spread across her face and then she laughed, her tiny body shaking with her giggles.  Sam grinned, chucking her cheek with one finger, and then gestured her back again. Abigail obeyed, spreading her small feet, face set with determination.

Gabriel found himself holding his breath as Sam gently tossed the ball to the little girl.  Abigail reached for it, fumbled, and then held it up in triumph.  Sam’s cheer could be heard inside the house and Gabriel threw his arms in the air.  _Touchdown!_

He backed away from the window before they saw him, grinning from ear to ear. Then his grin slipped and he closed his eyes briefly.  _Shit._   He was falling hard and fast without a safety net.  Sam _couldn’t_ know. He was leaving in three weeks and all he wanted was some fun before he went.  Besides, this was just a stupid crush.  Gabriel had had them before.  It would pass.

He opened the patio doors and put the smile back on his face as Abigail raced toward him, braids flying.

“Daddy, Daddy, I _catched_ it! I catched the football, did you see?”

Gabriel scooped her up and swung her around.  “I _did_ see, you amazing little athlete you!  That was awesome!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he settled her on his hip as Sam and Bethany came up to them. 

“You guys about ready?” he asked them.

“For what?” Abigail asked.

“Don’t _tell_ me you’ve forgotten!” Gabriel said.  He set her on the ground and shooed her toward the house.  “Go inside and refresh your memory.”

She obeyed and a minute later a delighted shriek echoed from the living room. Gabriel winced and grinned.

Sam raised an eyebrow as Abigail dashed back outside.  “Daddy, it’s _perfect!_ When are they getting here?”

“Any minute, kiddo,” Gabriel said.  “Why don’t you and Bethy go out front and watch for them?  You can tell everyone where to park.  Tell them to stay off Uncle Cas’s front lawn or he’ll scalp you for those pretty braids!”

Bethany shot Sam a glance and Gabriel made shooing motions.  Sighing, she left, casting her father an annoyed glance.

“Someone has a crush,” Sam said.

Gabriel jerked and shot him a startled look.  Sam was watching Bethany leave with an amused smile and Gabriel sighed, relieved.

“Can you blame her?” he asked, taking a step closer as soon as the girls were out of sight. 

Sam gazed down at him, eyes darkening.  “You are so lucky they could come back around that corner at any second,” he said.

“Or what?” Gabriel asked.

“Or I’d pin you down and tear your clothes off and have my way with you right here,” Sam growled.

Gabriel sucked in a startled breath.  “ _Jesus._ ” He took a step back and Sam watched him go without making a move to stop him. 

“It’s not a sleepover for you and me, is it?” Sam said instead.

It took Gabriel a minute to shift gears.  “Oh. No, it’s not.  I’m sorry, Sam, I didn’t even think about how that might have sounded when I said it.”

Sam shrugged, mouth quirking.  “It probably wouldn’t have even occurred to me as a possibility if I wasn’t already wanting you so much.”

“I’m sorry about that too,” Gabriel said in a rush.  “I know it’s been really awkward and I’m not _trying_ to drive you out of your mind, the timing’s just been really bad and Abby’s night terrors and -”

Sam’s hand covered his mouth, smelling of leather and grass and aftershave, and Gabriel took a deep breath and stopped talking.

“It’s okay,” Sam said, dropping his hand.  “I knew it wasn’t going to be all orgasms all the time when I suggested this. I may not have kids but I know they’re champion cockblockers.”

Gabriel snorted a laugh as Abigail careened back around the corner of the house, three little girls in tow, their mothers following more sedately.

“Oh God, incoming,” Gabriel murmured.  “You might want to make a run for it now while you still can.”

Sam planted his feet.  “Yeah, like _that’s_ happening.  Where do you want me?”

Gabriel shot him an incredulous look.  “You’re not _actually_ volunteering to help chaperone eleven pre-teens, are you?”

Sam gulped but his expression stayed firm.  “That’s…a lot.  But yeah, I guess I am. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Abigail arrived just then, out of breath, waving a hand at the guests.

“I’ll let you know,” Gabriel said to Sam.  “And…thank you.” He stepped forward to meet the mothers of the girls, head swimming.

_Hard and fast and the ground was rushing up at him.  Oh God, this was going to hurt, but damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy the free-fall until then._

 

**SAM**

 

Sam was in hell, and it was entirely populated by screaming little girls.

He stood on the neatly mown grass of the back yard, surrounded by a maelstrom of children, and considered his life choices.  How had it come to this?

Gabriel cast a glance over his shoulder, catching Sam’s eye and beckoning to him. He turned back to the women talking as Sam approached.

“This is Sam Winchester,” he told them.  “He’s staying in my cousin’s house for the month, and he’s agreed to help out a little this evening.”

The first woman held out a slim, manicured hand as she shook sleek blond hair away from her face.  “Hi Sam, I’m Trish. It’s nice to meet you.” She looked him appraisingly up and down and Sam took her hand with a little gulp. Trish was…predatory and made no attempt to disguise her appreciation of his appearance.

“I’m Sally,” the next woman said, very nearly shouldering Trish aside to take Sam’s hand next.  Sally was just as blatant in looking Sam over, and Sam swallowed hard as he shook her long, dark hand and she patted perfectly coiffed black hair that didn’t need it.

Sam cast Gabriel a slightly desperate glance as Sally stepped a little closer.

“My God, you’re tall,” she purred.  “What are you doing in Coquille, Sam?”

“Um, vacation,” Sam said, taking a step back and dropping her hand.

The third mother stepped in then, giving Sally a disparaging glance. “You give vultures a bad name, Sally Donovan.  And Trish, you’re no better!” She turned back to Sam with a grin.  “I apologize for them.  I’m Bridget, and I promise they won’t _actually_ eat you alive.  Are you sure you know what you’ve let yourself in for?”  She had bright red hair and sparkling blue eyes, and Sam found himself liking her immediately.

Gabriel snorted a laugh and patted Sam on the shoulder.  “Sam won’t be here long; he’s just going to help during dinner and presents.  Once they settle in with their movie, he’ll be heading back to the peace and quiet of an empty house. I’m considering going with him.”

“Don’t you dare!” Trish said, scandalized.  “You can’t leave the girls alone!”

Bridget rolled her eyes.  “It was a joke, Trish. _God._ Well, Gabriel, it looks like you’ve got things under control.  You have my number; I’m going to get out of your hair.  Don’t let my little monster talk you into letting her have red food coloring.”

Several more children and parents came around the corner as Gabriel walked Trish, Sally and Bridget back to their cars.  One of the women threw her arms around Gabriel, hugging him for a little too long, and then pulled away, keeping her hands on Gabriel’s shoulders. Gabriel laughed as she said something Sam couldn’t hear.

Sam bristled. _Mine._ He blinked at the sudden uprush of possessive jealousy that gripped him.  Where had that come from?

The woman finally let go of Gabriel and Sam turned to watch the girls as they ran and shrieked.  He was pretty sure it was a game of tag, but he couldn’t be sure.  As long as no one was actively bleeding, he figured they were okay.

“Sam!”

Sam turned to see Gabriel waving him over and Sam sighed and headed that way for another round of introductions.

Thankfully, these women weren’t as overt as Trish and Sally, but the one that had hugged Gabriel was eyeing him a little suspiciously. 

“What is it you do?” she asked him.  She was a brassy blonde, her hair viciously shellacked and not a strand daring to be out of place.  Capri pants and a clingy top suggested that she was looking to catch someone’s eye, or at least make sure everyone appreciated her assets.

It was odd, Sam thought. Bridget’s shirt had been just as form fitting, but he’d instantly liked her, whereas _this_ woman just set his teeth on edge.  Of course, it could be the way she was looking at Gabriel like she wanted to take a bite out of him.

“I’m a lawyer,” Sam said.  “In Nashville. I’m just here on vacation; I always wanted to see the Pacific Northwest.”

“And why on earth would you volunteer to help chaperone a party of little girls?” she said.

Sam had already forgotten her name.  He shrugged. “I had a night off. I like Gabe – Gabriel, and Abigail is awesome.  I thought it’d be fun to help out.”

As if on cue, Abigail dashed up and wrapped her arms around Sam’s leg. “Mr. Sam, Mr. Sam! We wanna do a Maypole!”

“Uh, okay,” Sam said, blinking down at her.  “Did you need my blessing?”

Gabriel started laughing.  “I think she wants to use you for the pole, Sam.”

Abigail nodded, grinning from ear to ear.  “’Cuz you’re _tall!_ ” she said helpfully.

“Right, of course,” Sam said.  God, how was anyone supposed to resist that adorable smile?  “Tell me how you want me, then.” He allowed Abigail to drag him away and Gabriel waved goodbye, not bothering to stifle his laughter.

 

An eternity later, all the women had left and Sam was wrapped in ribbons, wondering who exactly he’d pissed off in a past life to be tortured thus in this one.

Gabriel came to his rescue, chivvying the girls inside for dinner and beginning to unwrap Sam.

“I thought it was Abby’s birthday, not mine,” he said, voice bright with suppressed mirth, “And yet here you are, all tied up with a bow for me.” He tugged another streamer free and Sam sighed with relief.

“That could be arranged, you know,” he said.

Gabriel glanced up at him as he untangled a ribbon from Sam’s waist. “Oh?”

Sam’s voice lowered.  “You, me, some soft rope and several hours to drive you out of your mind?  Oh yeah, I think that could definitely be arranged.”

Gabriel swallowed visibly.  “Goddammit,” he complained, stepping back.  “I absolutely _cannot_ go back in that house with a boner.  Stop being so sexy right now, do you hear me?”

Sam grinned, busy disentangling the rest of the ribbons and handing the whole jumble of them to Gabriel.

“What next, boss?” he asked.

“Now we wrangle kids and I think about you naked as little as possible,” Gabriel said.

“Where’s the fun in _that?_ ” Sam asked as they headed for the house.

Gabriel snorted.  He put a hand on Sam’s arm at the door.  “Remember. They can smell fear. Also, they’re probably going to want to braid your hair.”

“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t occur to them,” Sam said.

They stepped inside and Gabriel clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention.  "Hey girls, who wants to braid Mr. Sam's hair?"

 

He was going to _murder_ Gabriel. Cross-legged on the floor, with two little girls on either side of him, small fingers busy plaiting his hair into stubby braids, Sam was concocting the most creative revenge possible on the man currently sitting on the couch with Abigail in his lap.

Bethany poked Sam’s shoulder.  “Stop squirming,” she ordered.

Sam subsided with a heavy sigh and Gabriel laughed. 

“Beths, you should put barrettes in his hair.  Go get your beauty box.”

“Good idea!” Bethany said, and scrambled to her feet.

Sam glared daggers at Gabriel, who just grinned at him.

_I will get you,_ Sam mouthed at him.

Gabriel’s grin widened.

 

Later that night, after the s’mores were eaten and the ghost stories told (Gabriel had a knack for being absolutely terrifying, Sam discovered, his voice dropping into lower registers and changing with each character in the story), Sam collapsed on the sofa while Gabriel pulled up the movie for his audience.

That done, Gabriel picked Bethany up from where she was sitting next to Sam and sat down, pulling her into his lap and kissing her cheek as she squirmed and laughingly protested.

Sam closed his eyes.  Gabriel had no right to be so attractive.  Everything he did made Sam just want him more.  He was so gentle with his daughters, so loving, yet clearly he was in command and they knew it and didn’t fight him on the rare occasions that he laid down the law.

He was funny, smart and kind.  And the way he was in bed…Sam suppressed a shiver, remembering the beautiful way Gabriel had fallen to pieces beneath him, mouth falling open and eyes fixed on nothing as he came all over his stomach.

Sam scrambled to his feet and headed for the bathroom.  _Stupid, stupid, inappropriate_ idiot, _there are children here you moron;_ his thoughts circled and jumbled over each other as he shut the bathroom door and leaned against it, struggling to control his breathing.

He glared down at the bulge in his pants, willing it to go away.  It ignored him and Sam groaned and rubbed his face.

There was a tentative tap on the door and Sam jumped.

“Sam?” It was Gabriel, and he sounded worried.  “Are you okay?”

Sam cleared his throat.  “Yeah…I’m fine,” he called.

“You didn’t look okay,” Gabriel said quietly.  His voice was muffled by the door but Sam could still hear the concern in it.

“I’m…” Sam sighed and rested his forehead against the door.

“Sam, you’re starting to freak me out a bit,” Gabriel said.

Sam gritted his teeth and glanced at his crotch.  Still there.  “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said immediately.  “They’re all in the living room.”

Sam opened the door and Gabriel nearly fell into the bathroom with a startled gasp. Sam caught him and pulled him the rest of the way in, shutting the door with a quiet click.  Then he grabbed Gabriel’s hand and put it on his groin.

“ _That’s_ why I ran,” he growled. “Because I was thinking about _you_ , and I couldn’t stop, and I knew it was wrong.”

The concern in Gabriel’s eyes was rapidly disappearing, replaced by a growing amusement and arousal.  Sam watched in fascination as Gabriel’s pupils expanded and he licked his lips, taking a deep breath.

“Sam,” he whispered. 

He was so close, Sam could feel Gabriel’s breath ghosting across his face.

“Yeah,” Sam managed.

“I think…” Gabriel murmured, “I think…you should go home.”

Sam sagged against the door.  “Yeah.” He rubbed his face. “Yeah, okay.  No, you’re right.”

“Hey.” Gabriel caught his hands and pulled them down.  “I swear I won’t leave you hanging much longer. Soon, okay?”

Sam nodded, not looking at him.  He groped for the door handle and pulled the door open, slithering out the gap and jogging across the grass without saying goodbye to the girls.

It was going to be a very long, very cold night, and it was only eight pm.

 

He was curled up on the couch with Persephone purring in his lap, reading one of Castiel’s books, when his front door opened an hour later and Gabriel appeared.

“Gabe?” Sam asked, sitting up straight.

Persephone dug her claws in with an annoyed chirrup and Sam stilled, staring at the man in the doorway.

“So the grandparents had a function this evening that they couldn’t get out of, but they left early and they just got to my house a few minutes ago,” Gabriel said, his words tumbling over each other in a rush.  “They brought Abby a present and they’re spending the rest of the evening with the kids and I told them I had to make an errand run and I got in the car and I drove it around the block and then I parked it and hiked across the empty lot so they wouldn’t know I’m next door, and…”

Sam stood up, dropping the book and dislodging Persephone, who yowled in protest as she hit the floor.  Sam barely heard it, too busy closing the gap between him and Gabriel and grabbing his face in both hands to pull him in for a kiss.

Gabriel went willingly, pressing their mouths together with an eager moan. His arms went around Sam’s neck and Sam dropped his hands to Gabriel’s waist to yank him closer.

“We have…we only have a few minutes,” Gabriel gasped as Sam moved to his neck.

Sam pulled away and Gabriel stumbled forward a step. 

“We’d better make this count, then,” Sam growled, and grabbed Gabriel’s wrist, tugging him up the stairs.  At the top, he hesitated. “Uh…will Cas have a problem with us having sex on his bed?”

Gabriel snorted a laugh and pushed him into the bedroom.  “We’ll stay on top of the covers and you can wash the bedspread after.  Not another word about my cousin or you risk killing the mood completely.”

“Pretty sure that’s not possible,” Sam said, as Gabriel backed him toward the huge bed. The backs of his knees hit it and he reached out, dragging Gabriel down with him as he fell onto the mattress.

Gabriel’s weight drove the air out of him with an _oof,_ and Gabriel winced.

“God, I’m sorry,” he said. 

Sam caught his breath and wheezed a laugh, pulling Gabriel into another kiss. “Shut up and get naked,” he said into his mouth, and Gabriel shivered and obeyed.

It was hurried, rushed and frantic, no finesse to it.  After the days of buildup, the tension and teasing, Sam knew he was going to make a horny fifteen year old look good.

Gabriel’s mouth was hot and demanding on Sam’s cock, giving him no chance to breathe, and within scant minutes Sam felt the warning signs of his impending orgasm; his thighs beginning to tremble, his stomach tightening. Gabriel hummed, encouraging him wordlessly, and Sam came with a stifled groan, jerking and shuddering as he filled the condom.

Spent, he collapsed back on the bed and Gabriel sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth.

“I hate the taste of latex,” he muttered, “But that was really worth it.”

Sam beckoned to him with one finger.  “Get up here,” he said.

Gabriel shook his head, backing away.  “Nope.” He stood up and tugged his pants back on, zipping them carefully over his erection. Turning, he grinned at Sam, staring at him from the bed.  “This was for you, Sammy.  We’ll take care of me another time.”

“But…”

Gabriel came around the corner of the bed and silenced him with a kiss. “No buts.  Except yours, because it is _stellar._ I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Sam watched him go, still dazed from pleasure.  He should protest more, argue for Gabriel to stay, he thought dimly, but he couldn’t make his tongue work properly.

Gabriel winked at him from the door.  “Sleep well, kiddo.”  And with that, he was gone.

Sam stared after him.  Finally, he pulled the condom off and dropped it in the trashcan next to the bed.  Rolling himself up in the bedspread, he sighed and fell asleep. Tomorrow.  He’d make it up to Gabriel tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello smut my old friend!

**CASTIEL**

Castiel was having the time of his life, much to his surprise.  Dean had taken him to the Gaylord Opryland Hotel, laughing at his objections, and Castiel had given up and gone with him reluctantly.

The place was huge, sprawling and gaudy, just as he had expected it to be. What he hadn’t expected was just how much _fun_ Dean was when he was relaxed and telling jokes and elbowing Castiel in the ribs to get an unwilling smile from him.

They spent most of the afternoon in the hotel, wandering the huge multiplex, and then Dean had decreed that they were going to his diner for dinner.

They’d eaten at The Bluebird Café several nights before, despite Castiel complaining that he didn’t _like_ country music, Dean, why did they have to eat there?  He’d been pleasantly surprised by the headliner, a young man who sat on the dais with his acoustic guitar and crooned into the microphone, and the food, which had been delicious.

Now Dean was driving them to his little diner while telling him how he’d come to own it.

“I worked for the owner for a summer when I was sixteen,” Dean said, changing lanes with a grimace at a slow driver ahead of them.  “I was a fry cook, and turned out I was pretty damn good at slinging hash.  I went back the next summer, and as soon as I graduated high school I started full-time. I’ve never worked anywhere else.”

“Did you go to college?” Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head, accelerating around another driver.  “God, the slowpokes are out in full force today. No, I never went to college. Didn’t really see the need. Sam’s the smart one, anyway. And when Rufus died and left the diner to me, well…I figured that was a sign.  I’ve got Ash to do my books for me, he’s smart too.  I just cook shit.  And sign the checks; I do a lot of that.”

“You’re smart too, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean cast him a look, startled by the force in Castiel’s voice.  “Uh…thanks?  But you don’t really know me, man.  I’m street-smart but I never got no book-larnin’.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean’s hillbilly impression.  “There are different ways to be smart.  _You_ are fiercely intelligent.  You told me how you rebuilt the Impala after your father wrecked it, and you were only eighteen then.”

“I’m good with my hands,” Dean said, shrugging.  He turned off the highway into the parking lot of the diner and killed the engine, turning to face his passenger.

“It’s more than that,” Castiel insisted, frustrated by Dean’s refusal to accept his statement.  He ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end even more than usual. “You read Vonnegut in your spare time. You mock me for being a ‘nerd’ but you know more about the Battle of Franklin than the tour guides. You work on your car for _fun,_ because you wanted to learn how and so you taught yourself.  I’ve never seen a vehicle run so smoothly; it’s a piece of _art,_ Dean, because of you.  And on top of that, you own your own business and have since your mid-twenties. You’re clever and resourceful and skilled and none of that would be possible if you weren’t _smart.”_

He fell silent and Dean stared at him, mouth open.

“Never mind,” Castiel said abruptly.  He pushed open the car door and stepped out, heading for the restaurant.

Dean caught up within a few feet and held the door for him.  Inside the cozy space, several voices called greetings and Dean held up a hand in a wave.

“Your lord and master and signer of your paychecks has arrived!” he said loudly. “Bow down and worship me or no Christmas bonus!”

A large man behind the counter snorted.  “Reckon Ash’d have more to say on that subject than you do,” he said.

Dean grinned at him. “Cas, this is Benny, my right-hand man. He makes the best tuna melt in three states.”

“My pecan pie ain’t bad neither,” Benny agreed.  He held out a huge hand and Castiel took it, fascinated with how his hand was swallowed by the larger man’s.

“What kinda magic are you working in my kitchen today?” Dean asked. He pushed Castiel toward a booth and Castiel tried not to notice how warm and solid Dean’s hand was on the small of his back.

Benny followed them the length of the counter.  “Chicken fried steak been sellin’ like crazy today.”

Dean sat down across from Castiel and arched an eyebrow at him. “Chicken fried steak?”

Castiel shrugged. “I’ve never had it.”

Dean gasped, clutching his heart.  “Never had chicken fried steak!  This is a _travesty!_ Benny, two of those with fries.”

“You got it, Boss,” Benny said cheerfully, and disappeared into the back.

Dean folded his hands on the table and smiled at Castiel, who steadfastly ignored the way his heart flipped at the sparkle in those bright green eyes.

Thankfully, his phone rang then and he fished it out of pocket with a sense of relief. “Hello?”

“Cas, how ya doin’?”

Castiel smiled.  “Hello, Gabriel. I’m well.  How are you?  How is Sam? Have you been getting along with him?”

There was an odd muffled sound from the other end of the line and Castiel stared at the phone, confused.

After a minute, Gabriel was back.  “Yeah, cuz, we’ve been getting along just fine.  The girls think he’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

“How’s Persephone?”

“Sam says it took her awhile to warm up to him, but I…checked on him the other night and she was curled up on his lap, so I think she’s decided that maybe he’s okay after all.”

“That’s good,” Castiel said, relieved.  “I was worried she would try to escape while I was gone.”

“Oh, she did,” Gabriel said cheerfully.  “Managed it, too!”

Castiel sat up straighter.  “What do you mean? Is she alright?”

“Relax, she’s fine.  God, you and that cat. It’s a love story for the fucking ages. She got out the morning after Sam arrived but she pulled her usual shit; ended up at our house. That’s how Sam and I, uh…met.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes.  Something sounded off about Gabriel’s voice, but Dean was looking at him curiously and Castiel couldn’t dig for information.

“How was Abigail’s party?” he asked instead.

“It was great!” Gabriel said.  “Thanks for calling. Sam helped me with the party and it went really well.”

Castiel smiled.  “Tell her and Bethany I miss them.  I can’t wait to see them again.”

They talked for several more minutes until Benny brought his and Dean’s food.

“Gabriel, please tell Sam thank you for taking care of Persephone. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up and turned to Dean.  “I’m sorry about that.”

“Hey, no big,” Dean said easily.  He gestured with his fork.  “Dig in!”

He was right, Castiel discovered.  Chicken fried steak, at least the way Benny made it, was not to be missed. The crisp breading paired perfectly with the tender steak inside and Dean laughed when Castiel opted for ketchup over gravy.

“Heathen,” he said cheerfully.

Castiel lifted an eyebrow, finishing his mouthful before he spoke. “I may not have ever had this particular meal, Dean, but I do know what I like.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, looking him in the eye.  “So do I.”

There was a curious pause between them, broken by Benny putting two huge slices of pecan pie on their table.

Dean looked away first.  “Benny, my love, marry me!”

Benny scoffed. “Not likely.  You leave your wet towels on the floor.”

“Hey, I haven’t done that in ages!” Dean protested.

Castiel felt something sinking in his stomach, like a rock falling through water. Dean…and Benny? He looked at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone.

Dean was cutting a bite of his pie, unaware of Castiel’s shift in mood. “Cas, ya gotta try this.”

“I will,” Castiel said, but before he could pick up his fork, Dean had shoved the bite into his mouth.  Castiel closed his lips around it, startled into a moan at the sweet, nutty flavor that exploded across his tongue.  He chased the fork as Dean pulled it out of his mouth, and looked up to see Dean staring at him, pupils huge.

Castiel looked down, unsettled.  He cut into his own pie, steadfastly not meeting Dean’s eyes.  “How long have you and Benny been together?”

“Me and…what?” Dean asked.  He blinked and cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as Castiel took another bite and sighed again at the taste.  “Oh. Benny.  Um.  We’re not…we’re not together.”

Castiel tried to ignore the relief that was spreading through him. “But you said…and _he_ said…I’m sorry, I misunderstood.”

Dean waved his apology away.  “Nah, man, it’s fine. We’ve been known to get our jollies together, which is how he knows about the towel thing, but we’re not dating. God, no.  He’d murder me within a week, if I didn’t smother him in his sleep first.”  He leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in his eye.  “He snores.”

Castiel didn’t fight the smile.  Instead he took another bite of pie.  “Well, that’s good,” he said.

“Yeah?” Dean said.  “Why’s that?”

“Because this pie is _amazing,_ ” Castiel said. “And if you’re not together, _I’m_ going to marry him.”

Dean’s laughter was a gift to be cherished, Castiel decided, and suddenly there was nothing more he wanted to do than hear it again and again.

 

**DEAN**

Dean was in a bind.  All he could see was Castiel, that slow smile blooming across his face, setting those dark blue eyes dancing. _God,_ the noises he’d made when he tasted the pie…Dean shifted in his seat, a vision of Cas laid out, naked and begging, and was hit with a bolt of lust so strong his head swam.  He closed his eyes and Castiel paused in his story, alarmed.

“Dean, are you alright?”

Dean nodded, sliding out of the booth in a rush.  “I…sorry, man, gotta go talk to Benny about something.”

This was wrong.  This was all wrong. He didn’t even _like_ the guy, he told himself as he headed into the kitchen of the diner.  Benny looked up from flipping a mess of hash browns. 

“Alright, Boss?”

“Just needed fresh air,” Dean said.

Benny cast a pointed glance around him.  “So you came back here?”

“Shut up,” Dean snapped.  “Are you free tonight?” He needed to drive this out of his head, put it so thoroughly from him that it never even occurred to him again to lust after his houseguest.

Benny cocked his head and considered him.  “Nah, _cher,_ reckon I ain’t.”

Dean blinked. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “What’s that mean?”

“Means I ain’t blind, Boss.”

“Goddammit, Benny, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Benny pointed his spatula at him.  “I’m talkin’ ‘bout that Texas-sized crush you got goin’ on on that gorgeous piece of ass out in the dining room.  I ain’t touchin’ you with a ten-foot pole, no offense meant, not till you work that outta your system, and I’m bettin’ that ain’t gonna be anytime soon.”

“I do _not_ have a crush!” Dean hissed, furious.

Benny snorted a laugh and flipped the potatoes.  “Sure ya don’t.  That hard-on you’re sportin’ says otherwise.”

Dean looked at his crotch and snarled.  “I hate you,” he flung over his shoulder as he strode out of the kitchen.

“No you don’t,” Benny called after him.

Dean stopped at the booth and Castiel blinked up at him, confused.

“Dean?”

And goddamn if that gravelly voice didn’t go straight to Dean’s groin.

“Let’s go,” he said, and Castiel stood up and followed him, clearly bewildered.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“No,” Dean snapped.  “It’s just time to go.”

 

**SAM**

Sam woke up Monday morning with a plan.  He’d spent Sunday with Gabriel and the girls, teasing Gabriel with subtle touches when they were alone or just _looking_ at him from across the room, and it had been even more fun than he’d expected watching Gabriel’s mobile face as he got progressively more flustered.

Finally, Sam had taken pity on him and gone back to his house, curling up on the couch with Persephone on his lap and balancing his laptop on the arm of the sofa while he searched for the kind of store he needed.

So Monday morning, Sam was up bright and early.  He called for a taxi and told the driver where he needed to go.

He spent a leisurely half-hour picking out exactly what he needed, and then he had everything packaged up and returned to 307 Magnolia.

The girls were in school.  He and Gabriel were going to have lunch later on with some of Gabriel’s friends, but right now Gabriel was alone, truly alone, for the first time in a week.

Sam knocked on the door, alight with nerves.

When Gabriel swung it open and smiled up at him, the nerves vanished and Sam took a deep breath, a sense of rightness settling into place.

“Hey!” Gabriel said.  He stepped aside so Sam could come in.  “I came by after I put the girls on the bus, but you didn’t answer your door.”

Sam lifted the plain black bag still in one hand.  “I was out shopping.” 

“Oh,” Gabriel said blankly.  “Okay. Want some coffee?”

“Sure,” Sam said, and followed him into the kitchen.  He leaned his hips against the counter and watched as Gabriel poured him a mug, setting out cream and sugar for him.

Gabriel picked up his own coffee and looked at him over the rim.  He looked…shy, Sam thought, and a thrill went through him.

He gave no sign of it, though.  Instead he headed for the living room and sat down on the couch, stretching out his legs. Gabriel followed him, hovering in the doorway, brown eyes cautious.

Sam patted the seat next to him, and Gabriel’s lips quirked up. He set the coffee down and came closer and Sam reached out, grabbing Gabriel’s wrist and tugging. Thrown off-balance, Gabriel ended up sideways in Sam’s lap, exactly where Sam wanted him. 

Gabriel glared at him, fighting the smile tugging at his mouth.

“Pushy,” he complained.

“Damn straight,” Sam said, and pulled him down for a kiss.

Gabriel melted into it, letting Sam lick his way hot and controlling into his mouth, making breathy little moans that shot straight to Sam’s groin.

Finally, Gabriel pulled away and stood, Sam’s hand still loosely around his wrist. He wasn’t going far though; he swung a leg over Sam’s lap and straddled him, grinning in triumph.

Sam dropped his hands to Gabriel’s thighs, kneading the firm muscles, and Gabriel sighed and scooted forward a bit, lowering his head so he could kiss Sam properly.

Sam gave as good as he got, hands roving Gabriel’s body, settling at his waist and thumbs stroking his hipbones.  Gabriel twitched and growled and Sam grinned, breaking the kiss.

“Are you ticklish?” he teased. 

Gabriel pulled away, panting for breath, and scowled down at him. “I’m not ticklish,” he said with great dignity.  “I just…never mind. Shut up.  Less talking, more kissing.”

Sam ducked his mouth, stopping his advance with a hand on his chest. “Wait, whoa.  If you’re not ticklish, what’s the problem?” 

Gabriel sighed.  “Nothing’s the ‘problem’, Sam, unless you count the fact that you’re talking and not kissing me!” 

Sam narrowed his eyes and considered, his thumbs stroking in slow circles over Gabriel’s hips as he thought, and Gabriel tried again to pull away. 

“You like it when I touch you,” Sam said.

“Well spotted _,_ ” Gabriel teased. “Can’t get nothin’ past you!” He tried to stand up but Sam’s hands gripped him and held him in place, sliding upward over his stomach. Gabriel wriggled, leaning away. 

Sam gasped, delighted. “ _Gabe._  Gabe, are you self-conscious?”  

Gabriel glared at him.

Sam’s lips were curving up.  “This…” He poked Gabriel’s stomach with one finger and Gabriel _squeaked_ and slapped his hand away _._   “Oh, sweet choirs of cherubs, you don’t like your belly, do you?” 

Gabriel froze.  His icy glare could have created a glacier.  Sam’s smile just widened and he cupped the back of Gabriel’s neck, tugging him down into a deep kiss that quickly turned filthy.  Only when Gabriel was gasping for breath did Sam release him.  

“Every inch of you is beautiful,” Sam growled fiercely.  He flattened his hand against the barely-there softness of Gabriel’s stomach. “Every. Single. Inch.” He tilted his head up, staring at Gabriel challengingly.  “Got it?”

Gabriel pulled away again and this time Sam let him go, watching as Gabriel stood up.

“I just don’t get it,” Gabriel finally said.

“Get what?” Sam asked. He was honestly confused, sitting on the couch with his legs falling open, and Gabriel rubbed his face.

“ _You,_ ” he said.  “I mean, look at you!”

Sam glanced down at himself, still bewildered, and then back up at Gabriel.  “Gabe…you think you could start making sense at some point?”

Gabriel ran his hands through his hair.  “Sam, you’re fucking _gorgeous._ ”

“Thank you,” Sam said. “So are you.”

“No, no I’m _not,_ ” Gabriel said, suddenly angry.  “That’s the exact point I was trying to make. You’re a solid ten, Sam, and I’m a seven on a good day.  _If_ that.  You should be with someone who matches you, who’s as gorgeous as you are.”

Sam’s mouth tightened and he stood up.  “You’d better not be saying what I think you’re saying,” he said quietly.

Gabriel took a step back as Sam moved forward.

“Do you want to know what I thought the first time I saw you?” Sam asked.

Gabriel nodded, looking almost mesmerized.

Sam smiled at him. “I thought ‘ _that’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen’._ And nothing has happened since then to change that opinion of you.”

Gabriel’s mouth fell open and Sam’s heart ached for him.

“Has no one ever told you that before?” he asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “Kali said it. I just…never believed her. I own a mirror. I think she kind of gave up after a while.”

Sam stared at him, stunned. Then he smiled and stepped forward. “ _I_ think it’s time for you to show me your bedroom,” he said, his voice low.

“Um.  Why?” Gabriel asked, wary.

“Because,” Sam said, taking another step.  “It’s time for me to undress you, very, very slowly, and then spend the next hour or so convincing you just how incredibly gorgeous you are.”

Gabriel swallowed hard as Sam closed the distance between them, looming over him.

“And also,” Sam murmured, “I want to show you what I bought.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said, and he took Sam’s hand, leading him through the living room and down the hall to the master bedroom.  Sam paused only to scoop up his bag and then let Gabriel show him into the room.

Sam looked around in approval. It was big, with light-canceling shades on the windows and thick plush carpet underfoot. 

Sam kicked his shoes off and happily wriggled his sock-clad toes against the velvety nap. He was looking at the bed though, and he liked what he saw.  A massive mahogany four-poster, it dominated the room and Sam had a sudden vision of Gabriel on it, writhing under his touch, and his head swam.

Gabriel closed the door and crossed the room.  Nerves lurked in his eyes again, and Sam took a step forward, closing the gap between them and curling his fingers around the back of Gabriel’s neck.

And oh, how he loved the way Gabriel relaxed into him, going loose and pliant and willing, letting Sam take the lead, care for him.  Gabriel _needed_ this, needed someone he could trust to take control so that he didn’t have to, so that he could simply _feel._ And if this was what Gabriel needed, then it was what Sam wanted to give to him.

“Get on the bed,” Sam murmured, their lips a hairsbreadth apart.

Gabriel shivered and took a step back, hands going to the hem of his t-shirt.

“Did I say get undressed?” Sam growled.

Gabriel’s eyes opened wide and he swallowed hard, shaking his head once.

“Then get on the bed,” Sam said.

Gabriel scrambled to obey, kneeling on the mattress and watching Sam, mesmerized, as he prowled nearer.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Sam said, unbuttoning his shirt.  He didn’t miss the way Gabriel’s eyes followed his hands, smiling to himself. “I have a lesson I need to drill home into that gorgeous but not-too-bright head.”

Gabriel jerked his eyes up at that, his face filling with affront and mouth opening to speak. Sam leaned in, pressing a finger against his lips, and Gabriel choked back the words.

“Look at you,” Sam murmured. “So good already.” He stroked Gabriel’s cheek and the shorter man’s eyes fell shut as he leaned into the touch.

“First things first, though,” Sam continued, and Gabriel opened his eyes, looking up questioningly. “You need a safeword. Something unrelated to sex or anything dear to you – no family members, in other words – so that if I hear it, I know to stop immediately.”

Apprehension filled Gabriel’s eyes. “Are you…do you want to hurt me, Sam?” He was already drawing away, closing down, and Sam went after him in a rush, ending up on the bed with Gabriel’s face cupped between his hands.

“ _No,_ ” Sam said, willing Gabriel to believe him.  “I will _never_ hurt you, Gabe.  But I want to…I want to…”

“You want to be in charge,” Gabriel said.

Sam nodded. “I want to be in charge, but even more than that, I think you _need_ me to be in charge sometimes.  To just let you be in the moment, to feel everything, without having to think. Does that…make sense?”

Gabriel smiled, turning his head and planting a kiss on Sam’s palm.

“Persephone,” he said.

Sam blinked.

“My safeword,” Gabriel clarified. “It’s Persephone.”

Relief roared through Sam, so strong it made him dizzy, and he leaned in and fitted their lips together lightly, giving Gabriel a taste but pulling away when the shorter man tried to deepen the kiss.

Gabriel whimpered, eyes shut, swaying on his knees.

“Take your shirt off and lie down on your back,” Sam said.

Gabriel obeyed immediately, dragging his t-shirt over his head and stretching out on the bed. He lay quietly, watching Sam without speaking, and Sam stared at him for a long moment, lost in wonder.

“Sam?” Gabriel sounded worried and Sam snapped back to himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning over and placing a small, precise kiss on the center of Gabriel’s chest. “You’re just so beautiful, Gabe.”

Gabriel turned his head away, closing his eyes.  Sam caught Gabriel’s chin, forcing him to look up, into Sam’s eyes.

“You are just…so…beautiful,” Sam growled, and Gabriel bit his lip. 

“You don’t believe me?” Sam said. “I guess I’ll just have to show you.” He rolled off the bed and picked up the bag from the floor.  “Close your eyes.”

Gabriel obeyed, his hands opening and closing a little as they lay palm up on the bedspread.  Sam pulled out the first velvet rope and looped it around the bedpost, adjusting the length before tying it.  Then he wrapped the other end around Gabriel’s wrist, pulling his arm up toward the head of the bed.

Gabriel’s eyes shot open in shock and he looked at his wrist and up at Sam.  Sam stared back, a challenge in his eyes, waiting for him to protest or safeword, but Gabriel just swallowed hard and put his head back on the pillow.

Sam smiled at him. “So good,” he said again, and rounded the bed to take the arm that Gabriel offered him, repeating the process until Gabriel was tied to the headboard.  Sam put the end of one of the ropes in Gabriel’s hand.  “This is a quick-release knot,” he said.  “If you need to get out in a hurry, yank on it.”

Gabriel nodded, a heady mixture of worry and arousal swimming in his eyes, and Sam leaned in for another kiss.

“Relax,” he whispered against Gabriel’s mouth.  “Trust me, and let go. Can you do that?”

Gabriel took a shaky breath and nodded.

Sam kissed him again, one hand roving across Gabriel’s bare chest, and Gabriel leaned up into it as much as he could, trembling with want and need.

Finally Sam broke away, sitting back on his heels and turning his attention to Gabriel’s pants. A damp spot was forming already, evidence of his arousal, and Sam unzipped Gabriel’s slacks and pulled them down, leaving him in just his boxers.

Then he laughed, startled. “Toy Story, Gabe, really?”

“Hey, it’s a classic!” Gabriel said defensively.

Sam snorted and blew on the damp patch, making Gabriel shudder.  Sam got closer, nosing the fabric covered bulge, smelling salt and pre-come and arousal on Gabriel’s skin, and his mouth watered.

He grabbed the waistband and pulled the boxers down and off Gabriel’s legs, dropping them over the side of the bed.  Gabriel’s hips bucked upward and Sam pinned him effortlessly.

“Be still,” he commanded, and Gabriel went limp, panting for air.

Sam pushed his legs apart, crawling between them and settling in.  He took a moment just to drink in the sight of Gabriel spread out like a buffet for him, and Gabriel whimpered.

“Sam, I’m going to _die_ if you don’t touch me soon.”

Sam put a hand on each of Gabriel’s hips, anchoring him against the bed.  “Is that better?”

“Not…really,” Gabriel admitted. He was gripping the ropes with both hands, his cock flushed and swollen, his lips bitten red, and Sam had never seen anything more beautiful.

Sam nuzzled the groove of Gabriel’s hip and Gabriel jerked as Sam licked away the salt and moved up Gabriel’s stomach, licking and nibbling and occasionally stopping to suck tiny bruises into Gabriel’s skin. 

He ignored Gabriel’s erection completely, lavishing attention all around it until Gabriel was _whimpering,_ pulling uselessly on the ropes, bitten off pleas falling from his throat as Sam worshiped his body.

“ _Sam,_ ” he groaned, hips twisting.

Sam hummed against his stomach, tongue busy.

“Sam, _please,”_ Gabriel sobbed.

Sam pulled away and looked down at him.  “Look at you,” he said wonderingly.  “ _Begging_ for me.  You’d do anything I asked right now, wouldn’t you?”

Gabriel nodded, yanking on the ropes again.  He was trembling all over, Sam realized.

“You’re being so good,” Sam said. “So I think you’ve earned the right to ask me for something.”

Gabriel moaned in gratitude, gripping the ropes again.

“You can choose, I think,” Sam said.  “Do you want my mouth or my cock?”

Gabriel’s eyes shot wide, his mouth falling open.  Sam tilted his head, waiting.

“ _Both_ ,” Gabriel said desperately.  “Please can’t I have both?  _Please,_ Sam…”

Sam lifted one eyebrow, implacable, and Gabriel’s feet scrabbled against the bed as he writhed, desperate for touch, for friction, for any sort of contact at all.

Sam just waited and finally Gabriel sobbed hard, collapsing back onto the mattress.  “Your cock, Sam, please, _please fuck me…”_

That was all he needed to hear. Sam grabbed the lube and slicked up a finger, pushing Gabriel’s legs wide for better access.  He caressed the pucker of muscle, loving the way it clenched and spasmed against his finger, and then slid in up to his first knuckle.

He took his time as Gabriel fell apart, shaking and groaning, until he was slowly moving three fingers in and out. Gabriel’s cock was so flushed it was almost purple, his balls heavy, and Sam winced with sympathy. He had to be _aching_ , desperate for release. 

“Now,” Gabriel begged, fucking his hips down onto Sam’s hand with a gasp, “Now, Sam, _please._ ”

Sam got to his knees, surveying the wreck of a man in front of him.  “Not yet.”

“Oh my _God,_ ” Gabriel moaned.  “I’m going to _die._ Sam, I’m gonna fucking _die,_ do you really want that on your conscience?”

Sam grinned and slithered off the bed.  He gave a sharp jerk to one of the ropes and it fell off Gabriel’s wrist.  Gabriel stared up at him, bewildered.

“We’re not done, are we? Please tell me we’re not done. Sam, what are you doing?”

Sam pushed his pants down and stepped out of them, rolling a condom down over his erection. “We are nowhere _near_ done, but if you’re going to continue being a mouthy little shit, I’m going to have to shut you up.”

Gabriel licked his lips, raising an eyebrow, and opened his mouth, so Sam caught the back of his neck and pushed his cock between Gabriel’s parted lips.

Gabriel made a strangled noise and began to suck, head bobbing as Sam groaned deep in his chest and threaded his fingers through the silken strands of Gabriel’s hair.

All too soon, Sam felt the familiar pressure of an impending orgasm and he pulled Gabriel’s head away. Gabriel growled in protest, pupils blown, and Sam’s hand tightened in his hair.

“Turn over,” Sam rasped.

Gabriel obeyed immediately and Sam tied his wrists up again, giving him enough room to brace himself on his elbows.  Gabriel drew his knees up, swaying on all fours, hips pushing backward in a desperate attempt to find contact, and Sam clambered onto the bed behind him, grabbing him.

“Be still,” he ordered.

Gabriel tried to obey, his slim frame shaking, his breath coming in rapid pants, hiding his face against his forearm.  Sam slicked up and pressed against Gabriel’s entrance, inching in as Gabriel opened around him. The head of his cock slipped past the tight ring of muscle and both men groaned in unison. 

Sam waited, holding his breath, running his hands up Gabriel’s flanks and over his smooth back.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So gorgeous, so perfect.”

Slowly Gabriel relaxed and Sam slid in an inch, then another, gasping at the tight heat swallowing him.

“ _Jesus,_ ” he said. “I’m not…I’m not gonna last, Gabe.”

“ _Good_ ,” Gabriel snarled, and shoved backward hard.

Sam choked on sensation as he bottomed out in one smooth motion, buried to the hilt.   “ _Fuck,”_ he hissed. “You little _brat.”_

Gabriel tossed a grin over his shoulder.  “Move, Winchester,” he commanded.

“Who’s topping here anyway?” Sam complained even as he obeyed.

Whatever quick retort Gabriel had prepared was lost when Sam snapped his hips forward, punching the air from the shorter man’s lungs.  Gabriel braced himself against the headboard, pushing back and growling deep in his throat as Sam nailed his prostate with every thrust.

It was a scant handful of minutes before Sam felt heat wrapping around the base of his spine but he held off his orgasm, gritting his teeth desperately as Gabriel writhed beneath him, insensate with pleasure.

“Sam, so close,” Gabriel gasped. “Gonna come…”

Sam locked his hand around the base of Gabriel’s erection, throttling back his orgasm and making the shorter man thrash, choking on a sob.

“Not until I say,” Sam snarled, and thrust harder, again and again, until Gabriel was shoving back against him, meeting every pump of his hips with a groan.

Sam knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold off much longer.  He was hovering right on the edge as it was.

“You wanna come, Gabe?” he grated. “You want my permission?”

“Please,” Gabriel gasped. “Please Sam, let me come, please touch me, _please…_ ”

He was soaked in sweat, Sam’s hands sliding where he was bracing himself on Gabriel’s hips, and Sam reached around again and grasped his cock, jacking him hard and fast in time to his thrusts.

Gabriel bucked beneath him, crying out, and Sam groaned, draping himself over Gabriel’s back and burying himself even deeper.

“ _Now,_ ” he choked out, and every muscle in Gabriel’s body locked up tight as he spilled onto the bedspread, clenching obscenely hard around Sam’s cock and Sam came on a helpless groan, dropping his face between Gabriel’s shoulder blades to ride out the waves of bliss, his vision whiting out.

When he came back to himself, they were collapsed on the bed, Sam still deep inside, and Gabriel was whimpering quietly, breathing in short, sharp jerks.

Horrified, Sam pulled out and yanked the ropes off, rolling the shorter man onto his back. “Gabe, _Gabe,_ did I hurt you?  Talk to me, are you okay?”

Gabriel smiled up at him. His pupils were blown and he looked almost drugged, high on endorphins.  “Best…orgasm… _ever,”_ he managed to say.

Sam sagged with relief and gathered Gabriel into his arms, rolling onto his side.  Gabriel curled up against him, his breathing slowly beginning to even out.

“You are beautiful,” Sam whispered into Gabriel’s sweat-soaked hair. 

Gabriel sighed and pulled Sam’s arm a little tighter around him.  Then he snorted suddenly.

“What?” Sam inquired, suspicious.

“If I argue, will you do that more often?” Gabriel asked, mirth bright in his voice.

“Don’t you _dare,_ ” Sam said, amused.  “But I’ll make you a deal; if you _won’t_ argue, we can do that as often as you like.  Well.  As often as physically possible without our hearts giving out.”

“I can live with that,” Gabriel decided.

“How much time do we have before we have to leave for lunch?” Sam asked.

“At least two hours. Plenty of time,” Gabriel said, yawning.

“Good,” Sam murmured, and sank into sleep.

He was almost out when Gabriel whispered, “Thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some homophobic behavior halfway through this chapter

**GABRIEL**

Gabriel woke up first. A glance at the clock showed him that they still had plenty of time before they had to leave. He eased out from under Sam’s heavy arm, stifling a wince as abused muscles protested, and padded into the bathroom.  Turning on the shower, he braced his hands on the sink and stared into the mirror unable to help his smile.  He looked…well-fucked. His hair stood wildly on end, rumpled from Sam’s hands, there was a love bite on his neck that he didn’t remember getting, and the smug satisfaction on his face might as well be a neon sign proclaiming that he’d been laid and _it was good._

When he was clean and dressed, he tiptoed back into the bedroom.  Sam was still asleep, sprawled out on Gabriel’s side of the bed. Gabriel crawled back onto the mattress, lay down on his stomach with his chin on his hands and just _looked_ at him for a few minutes. 

Sam’s soft brown hair fell over his face, his eyes moving under their eyelids.  His beautiful mouth was soft with sleep, curved slightly upward as if he was having a good dream.  His nose wrinkled briefly and then his expression smoothed out again, and Gabriel was stunned at the clutch of his heart.

_Oh Jesus no._

Having fun together, that was one thing.   Even a little crush was manageable.  But Gabriel _couldn’t_ fall for Sam. It was impossible. He started to slide backwards, off the bed, and one of Sam’s big hands snaked out and latched onto his wrist. Gabriel froze and in the next instant he’d been yanked close, tucked up tight against Sam’s sleepy warmth.

“Mm,” Sam hummed in his ear. “Smell good.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and soaked up the feeling of being safe, cared for, _wanted_ , for a long, precious minute.  Then he turned over in Sam’s arms until they were face to face.

Sam’s lips curved up, his eyes still half-mast.  “Hey you,” he murmured.

Gabriel leaned in and kissed Sam’s nose just so he could see it wrinkle again.  “Time to get showered so we can go, sleepyhead,” he said.

“Don’t wanna,” Sam said, screwing his eyes shut.  “’M _comfy._ ”

“There’ll be food,” Gabriel coaxed. “ _Good_ food, lots of it, and you won’t have to pay for any of it.”

Sam cautiously opened one eye and Gabriel suppressed a smile.  If there was one thing he’d learned about the young man in their time together, it was that Sam was a bottomless pit when it came to food.

“What _kind_ of food?”

Gabriel pretended to think. “Well, it’s a little pizzeria type place with specialty pies, as well as a variety of Greek and Italian food. I’d say you’re going to have plenty of variety.”

“I guess that’s worth getting up for,” Sam decided.  “But first…” He pounced, making Gabriel squawk in surprise as he was pinned to the bed and Sam straddled him, grinning. 

Gabriel glared up at him, fighting his smile.  “Rude,” he pointed out.

“You love it,” Sam said, and bent to kiss him.

Gabriel kissed him back, their lips fitting together and tongues dipping in questing little touches. Sam sighed and deepened it and Gabriel laughed into his mouth, wriggling until Sam pulled away.

“Oh no you don’t,” Gabriel said. “You.  Shower.  Now.”

“Sure you don’t want to join me?” Sam said.

Images flashed through Gabriel’s mind.  Him bent over under the spray, steam billowing around them, hands everywhere, hot nipping teeth and hard pounding thrusts…his eyes glazed and Sam laughed down at him and swung his leg off to let him up.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Gabriel said after he’d spent a minute talking his sudden erection into going away.

Sam stood up and Gabriel scooted to the edge of the bed as the taller man stretched and yawned, then padded naked to the bathroom, absently scratching his buttock.

 _Don’t say it, don’t even_ think _it,_ Gabriel told himself fiercely.  If he didn’t say the word, it wasn’t real.  He didn’t actually have to face it; he could wave goodbye at the airport and go back to his old life with a clear conscience.

He sighed and flopped backward onto the bed, rubbing his face.  He was _so fucked,_ and not in the fun way.

 

They got to the restaurant with about ten minutes to spare before their lunch guests arrived.

“So who are we meeting?” Sam asked. He was fidgeting a little, long fingers tugging at the seatbelt and letting it retract before pulling it out again.

Gabriel touched his knee. “Nervous?  There’s no reason to be.  Charlie and Gilda are good people.  You’ll like them.”

“How do you know them?”

“Charlie’s a writer too; she works for one of the papers I write for,” Gabriel said.  He left his hand on Sam’s knee, rubbing it gently and enjoying the feel of the muscles flexing under his fingers.  Sam caught his hand and held it.

“You’re distracting me,” he said, eyes amused.

“That or just shamelessly copping a feel,” Gabriel said.

“Wait, Charlie’s female?” Sam asked suddenly.

“Caught that, did you?” Gabriel said, smiling.  “Yeah. Charlie’s a woman.”

“And she and Gilda are…?”

“Yeah, they are,” Gabriel said. “Does that help at all?”

Sam relaxed a bit. “It kind of does,” he admitted.

“Sam…how many times have you been with a guy?”

Sam slanted a glance at him. “Including you? Um.  One.”

Gabriel gasped. “Oh my _God,_ Sam, are you telling me I _deflowered_ you and didn’t even _know_ it?”

Sam’s lips were twitching. “Technically, I think I was the one doing the deflowering,” he pointed out.  “And I’ve been with women before, so I’m not an actual virgin. But yeah…you’re the first guy I’ve been with.”

“ _Jesus._ ” Gabriel slumped against the car door, covering his eyes. He was too horrified to meet Sam’s gaze. “If I’d known…”

Sam caught his hand and pulled it down.  “If you’d known, what? You wouldn’t have had some of the best sex of your life?  You’d be missing out then and I know _I’d_ be having a lot less fun too.”

Gabriel shifted in his seat. “Yeah, but…I could’ve been, I don’t know…gentler, or something.”

Sam burst out laughing. “I’m not a delicate flower, Gabe!”

“And how did you know what to _do?_ ” Gabriel demanded. “I never would’ve guessed that I was your first.”

“Gabe, you’re being an idiot. You’re not my first, just my first _guy._ And I knew ‘what to do’ because there’s this cool little invention called the internet, and I read a lot.”

“But…” Gabriel repeated.

“But nothing,” Sam said firmly. “I went in with my eyes open, and I’m really, _really_ glad I did. Don’t you dare beat yourself up for something that _I_ don’t regret, do you hear me?”

Gabriel swallowed and finally nodded.

Sam’s lips twitched. “In that case, do you think maybe you could kiss me?  I’m feeling awfully lonely over here.”

“Well, if I absolutely must,” Gabriel said, and leaned over the gearshift.  Sam met him halfway, smiling, and Gabriel sank into the already familiar combination of desire and awe that kissing Sam seemed to entail.

A knock on the window startled them apart and Gabriel looked up into Charlie’s laughing face.

“A friend, huh?” she called through the window.  Her red hair was in a sloppy braid over her shoulder and green eyes were alight with amusement.

Gabriel scrambled out of the car, smoothing his shirt, and glared at her.  “Nice to see you too,” he said.

Charlie just grinned at him. Behind Gabriel, Sam was getting out, and Charlie glanced over Gabriel’s shoulder and whistled. “Holy hell, Gabe, how’d you land a specimen like _that_?”

“Oh, don’t you start too!” Sam snapped.

Charlie blinked, startled, and Gabriel hastened to soothe ruffled feathers.  “Sorry, we just had a…discussion about that earlier. Nothing to do with you. Sam, this is Charlie. Charlie, Sam.  Where’s Gilda?”

“Parking the car,” Charlie said, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and holding out her hand to Sam as he rounded the car.  “Charlie Bradbury. Nice to meet you.”

“Sam Winchester,” Sam said as he shook her hand.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude just now.”

Charlie waved that away. “Nah, don’t even worry about it. Oh hey, there’s Gilda!” She pointed to a slim woman with dark brown hair hurrying toward them, and Gabriel felt a smile break out. He liked Gilda.  She was down-to-earth, no nonsense, and had the sharpest tongue he’d ever seen in action, coupled with a huge heart and a wicked sense of humor.

She threw her arms around him and he hugged her back.  “It’s good to see you,” he told her.

When she pulled away, Gabriel repeated the introductions, then glanced around the group. “Ready?”

“Anything I need to know first?” Sam asked.

“Maybe don’t blurt out that he’s a food critic at the top of your lungs,” Charlie said, grinning. “Other than that you’re probably good.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but his lips were twitching.  “There goes my mid-meal icebreaker,” he said.

Gilda snorted a laugh and took Gabriel’s arm.  “Let’s go before these two come up with a way to burn down the restaurant around our ears and call it performance art,” she said.

Charlie clutched her heart as she followed them to the door.  “Gil, baby, you wound me, you really do.”

“Not as much as I will do if you don’t get your ass in gear,” Gilda said.  “I’m hungry!”

 

Their server, a pretty blonde girl who said her name was Hayley, greeted them with a wide smile and showed them to a cozy booth tucked off in a corner of the restaurant, where she began rattling off the specials at impressive speed.

Halfway through, Charlie started laughing and fell against Gilda.  “Save me from so many choices, my love!” she exclaimed, and Hayley’s smile slipped a notch.

Gabriel watched as Hayley turned her body slightly away from Charlie and Gilda and focused on him to continue talking.  He’d have been impressed if he wasn’t filled with fury, and Sam took his hand under the table and squeezed tightly.  So he’d noticed too.

Gabriel took a deep breath and placed his order.  The others followed suit and as Hayley departed, silence fell over the table.

“Well, that was awkward,” Gilda muttered.

“God save us all from bigots,” Gabriel said quietly.

Predictably, Charlie found it funny and proceeded to flaunt her “gayness” in Hayley’s presence. Every time the blonde girl showed up to refill drinks or update them on the progress of their food, Charlie found a reason to hang all over Gilda, occasionally going so far as kissing her thoroughly when she saw Hayley approaching.

Gilda rolled her eyes and let her do it.

Sam just watched, eyes thoughtful.

The quality of their service began to slip after Charlie and Gilda’s first kiss.  Soon, Hayley was on the other end of the restaurant, talking with the hostess and afflicted with a curious blindness when it came to Gabriel trying to get her attention.

Gabriel gritted his teeth the fifth time he caught her eye and waved at her and she turned away.

“That’s it,” Sam said suddenly. “I’m talking to the manager.”

“You are _not,_ ” Gabriel said, grabbing his arm as he tried to stand up. “That’ll just make things worse.”

Gilda was nodding. “He’s right.  Besides, have you forgotten what the man does for a living? Trust me, she’s not getting out of this one.”

Sam subsided, face still set with fury.  “This is bullshit,” he growled.

“Yeah, it really is,” Charlie said, propping her chin on her hands.  “But you get used to it after awhile.  I take it you’re new to the whole ‘gay’ thing?”

Sam shot her a startled look. Charlie met his gaze with a level stare.

“Seriously, this is pretty tame,” Gilda said.  “We’ve had drinks dumped on us – by ‘accident’, of course.  Food burnt or undercooked.  Profuse apologies when we complain, of course.  It’s not as bad as it used to be.  People are getting better, on the whole, but the human race still has a long way to go.”

Gabriel had finally managed to get Hayley’s attention and she was heading in their direction.

“How do you deal with it?” Sam asked, honestly bewildered.

Gabriel’s heart hurt for him. He hadn’t had to deal with as much negativity as Charlie and Gilda, not having had a male partner since before he and Kali even met, but he still had more experience than Sam, who was clearly out of his depth and floundering to keep his head above water. He reached for and caught Sam’s hand again, holding it tightly. 

He smiled at Hayley when she arrived at the table.  “Do you have a dessert menu?” he asked.

Hayley almost managed to suppress her eye-roll before she turned away to fetch the menus, and Sam’s face got even harder, but he kept his mouth shut.

They ordered dessert and were out of the restaurant as quickly as Gabriel could manage.  Charlie and Gilda hugged Sam in the parking lot and Charlie took his hand.  “Sam, do you mind if we talk to Gabriel alone for a minute?”

“Of course not,” Sam said immediately.  “I’ll be in the car, Gabe.”

Both women turned to look at Gabriel as soon as Sam was out of earshot and Gabriel shifted his weight, suddenly uneasy.  “What?” he demanded.

“Don’t fuck this up, Gabe,” Charlie said.

Gilda rolled her eyes. “Classy as ever, my love. She’s right though, Gabriel. I haven’t seen you this happy in more than three years, even accounting for that little brat in there. Sam is good for you. How long is he here for?”

“Two more weeks,” Gabriel said, suppressing a pang at the thought of Sam leaving. “And we’re not serious. It’s just…some fun. I _can’t_ be serious about him, Gil, he lives in Nashville, I’ve got the girls, I just…I can’t.”

Gilda took a step forward and cupped his face, her dark brown eyes serious.  “If you want to make it work, you’ll find a way.  For what it’s worth, we’ll help all we can. You deserve to be happy, Gabriel.”

Charlie was nodding. “She’s right, Gabe. It’s like you died when Kali did.” She dodged Gilda’s withering glare. “It’s true!” she said defensively.

Gilda sighed and took a step back, wrapping her arm around Charlie’s waist.  “What my idiot girlfriend says is painfully tactless, but it’s true.  You lost your wife, Gabriel, but you shouldn’t have to resign yourself to a life of loneliness because of it.  You deserve better. And Kali wouldn’t want it, you know she wouldn’t.”

Gabriel blinked back sudden tears. “It’s stupid,” he said, clearing his throat.  “I feel...”

“Like you’re being disloyal,” Charlie said. 

Gabriel nodded, throat still closed up.

Gilda smiled at him. “You’re not, you know. Kali would be happy for you. Sam is so good for you.”

“You only met him two hours ago!” Gabriel protested.

“It didn’t take two minutes for me to figure that much out,” Gilda said dryly. 

Charlie threw her arms around Gabriel and hugged him tight.  “We’re just saying, if you need anything, you know where we are.  And…we love you.”

Gilda hugged him too and Gabriel wiped his eyes and smiled at them both.

“It…means a lot,” he said. “Thank you.”

 

Sam was sitting very still when Gabriel slid into the car, like a powder keg set to explode, and it took a minute for Gabriel to remember why.

He started the car and headed for home without saying anything.  When they arrived, he got out and caught Sam’s eye. 

“I was wondering if you could help me with something in the backyard?” he said.

Sam followed him around the house, puzzled, and Gabriel led him to the pile of huge flagstones that he’d gotten for dirt-cheap from the paving company that had gone out of business. He explained as much to Sam, who blinked, clearly confused.

“I had in mind to lay some paving stones in, make a path from the garden here, up to the house. But these are way too big the way they are.  Not only are they almost impossible for me to move, but I want a more rustic feel to the path. So I was going to take a sledgehammer to them, break them up into more manageable pieces. Would you be willing to do it for me?”

Sam’s eyes lit up and he took the heavy sledgehammer and pair of gloves that Gabriel held out. “ _Hell_ yes,” he said.

Gabriel smiled at him. “Good.  I’ll be in the house, working on this review, but first…” He stepped in close and laced his fingers around the back of Sam’s neck. “I am proud to be seen in public with you, Sam Winchester,” he said quietly.  “One snotty teenager can’t change that.  Now kiss me like you mean it and bust some rocks until you stop feeling so much like busting someone’s face.”

Sam smiled slowly and bent to obey and Gabriel went up on tiptoes to better reach his mouth. They stood that way for several long minutes, soaking in each other’s warmth and contact, until Gabriel broke the embrace and stepped back, breathing a little hard.

“I’ll see you inside,” he said, and headed for the house.  When he glanced back, Sam was shedding his button-down shirt, leaving him in only a white singlet, and Gabriel swallowed hard at all the golden skin on display. He wasn’t sure whether to regret or delight in the fact that his study faced the backyard.  Either way he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his work.

His phone rang as he was sitting down at the desk.

“Cas!” Gabriel answered, delighted. It had been several days since he’d heard from his cousin.  “How’s Tennessee?”

“Hello Gabriel,” Castiel said. “Tennessee is fine, thank you. How are you and Sam getting along?”

“Oh, fine,” Gabriel said vaguely. He glanced out his window to where Sam was swinging the sledgehammer.  The young man had already worked up a sweat that was beginning to soak into his singlet, and Gabriel lost his train of thought to stare as Sam straightened and wiped his face.

“Gabriel?”

Gabriel jolted back to himself. “Sorry, cuz, I, um…missed that last bit.”

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked.

“Fine,” Gabriel said. “Really, just a little…distracted.”

“Are you working?” Castiel said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called now. I’ll call you back tonight.”

“No!” Gabriel said. He rose and crossed to the window and dropped the blinds.  “What’s going on, Cas? You sound weird.”

A heavy silence greeted his words and then Castiel sighed.

“I am…confused, Gabriel.”

“And you turned to me for help?” Gabriel snorted.  “Dude, you must be really hard up for advice.”

This time the silence was stony, and Gabriel began to feel a little guilty.

“Sorry, Cas, I’m listening, I am. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Castiel said.

“In regards to what, exactly?”

“Dean,” Castiel growled.

“Uh oh,” Gabriel said. He sat down in his chair again and propped his feet up on the desk.  “Tell me everything and don’t spare the details.”

“I don’t _like_ him, Gabriel,” Castiel said.  “He is crude, and rude, and he thinks stupid stuff is funny and he has terrible taste in food and beer and…I don’t like him.”

“And if you keep saying that, maybe you’ll actually convince yourself in a few hundred years,” Gabriel said, amused.  “Sounds to me as if you like him a little more than you’d prefer.  Have you done anything about it?”

“ _No!”_ Castiel snapped.  “I mean, no. I told you, I don’t like him.”

“And I don’t believe you any more now than I did five seconds ago,” Gabriel said.  “What exactly is the problem here?”  He stretched and muscles protested, the twinge a pleasant reminder of what he and Sam had done that morning.

“I do not wish to enter into a relationship with Dean Winchester,” Castiel said flatly.

“Sure you don’t,” Gabriel said. “Leaving aside the fact that I still don’t believe you for a red-hot second, who said anything about a relationship? All I’m suggesting you do is get your rocks off with the man.”

“Very tasteful, Gabriel,” Castiel said, sighing again.

Gabriel could almost _see_ him pinching the bridge of his nose and praying for patience. He sat forward.  “Okay but come on, why not?” he asked.

“ _Because_ ,” Castiel said. 

“Use your words, cuz,” Gabriel said, grinning.

“Because it would not be wise!” Castiel snarled.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Please.  Cas, you’re only there for two more weeks. Why _not_ have some fun before you have to come back to your boring-ass stuffy job?”

“My job is not boring, Gabriel!”

“Of course not,” Gabriel said hastily.  “It’s fascinating; riveting even.  But your incredibly interesting job aside, I still don’t see why you’re not willing to fall into bed with the guy.  It’s not like you’re proposing, after all.”

“You are no help at all,” Castiel growled.

“And you thought I would be?” Gabriel asked, stifling a laugh.  “You should know better by now.”  He sobered. “Look, Cas.  You’ve been mooning after Balthazar for way too long. Way I see it, having a good time with Dean would be an excellent way to snap you out of this funk you’ve been in. It might be just the thing you need.”

“But…”

“But what?” Gabriel said. “There are literally no downsides here. Jump his bones. Rip his clothes off. Suck his -”

“Yes, _thank you,_ I get your point,” Castiel said loudly.

Gabriel grinned at the ceiling.

“He doesn’t even like me,” Castiel said more quietly.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel said. “How could he not like you? You are…you are eminently likeable, dammit.  Do I need to come kick his ass?”

“Calm down,” Castiel said, amused affection warming his voice.  “No ass-kicking will be necessary, but thank you for your outrage on my behalf. It’s just…after the baseball bat incident, I threw out his pizza and he shouted at me, and he woke me up early working on his car and mowing the lawn and we yelled at each other and…” He trailed off.

“And what?” Gabriel prompted.

“Well, he did take me out to breakfast after the mowing fiasco,” Castiel admitted.  “But it was just his way of trying to make up for being thoughtless.  He is a very kindhearted man.”

“And then what?” Gabriel said. There was a story there, he could feel it in his bones.

“He…it means nothing, Gabriel.”

“Tell me,” Gabriel commanded.

“Well, he offered to show me Nashville.  The _real_ Nashville, he said,” Castiel admitted in a rush. “But he was just being nice!”

Gabriel prayed for patience. “Did your mother drop you on the head repeatedly as an infant?” he asked.  “Or is it more recent cranial trauma that has caused this _incredible stupidity?_ ”

Castiel snarled wordlessly at him and Gabriel rolled his eyes again. 

“Cas.  Cousin.  I love you, but you’re being a _moron._ He _likes_ you, dude!”

There was an uncertain silence and Gabriel sighed.  “Look. No one offers to be a tour guide out of the goodness of his heart.  He did it because he likes your company.  Although…maybe he _is_ just being nice. Is he gay?”

“He is at the very least bisexual,” Castiel said immediately.

“There you go!” Gabriel said.

Castiel sighed yet again. “Gabriel, I do not…I am not good at this.  I don’t understand these things.  I can’t _flirt._ ”

“You don’t have to,” Gabriel told him, suddenly sympathetic.  “All you have to do is find an excuse to take your shirt off in his presence. If he doesn’t take it from there, well…”

“I am _not_ taking my shirt off in front of him, Gabriel!” Castiel shouted.

“Hey.  You asked my advice, I gave it to you.  What you do with it is your business.  So, other than trying to figure out how to seduce your hot housemate, how are you enjoying your vacation?”

“It’s fine,” Castiel said. He sounded distracted, as if he was trying to figure out a complicated equation in his head.

“Well, I’ll see you in two weeks,” Gabriel said.  “And if you call back tonight or tomorrow evening, you can talk to the girls, but right now I have a review that really needs to be written.  Or did you need more sage advice?”

“I think I’m full up with sage advice,” Castiel said dryly.  “Any more and I might burst.  Tell the girls I love them.  And Gabriel…thank you.”

“Good luck getting laid, cuz,” Gabriel said, and laughed outright when Castiel huffed in his ear and hung up on him.


	8. Chapter 8

**CASTIEL**

Castiel sat on the bed for a few more minutes, staring at the phone in his lap.  It couldn’t be as easy as Gabriel was suggesting it would be. Could it?  Sighing, he stood up and pushed his phone into his pocket before venturing out of Sam’s bedroom and down the stairs.

Dean was due back from work soon, and Castiel had it in mind to cook for him.  It was only fair after everything Dean had done for him, after all, he told himself. 

He’d spent the day lazing around the house, doing a few chores but mostly resting and reading and determinedly _not_ thinking about a certain green-eyed man’s smile.

Rounding the corner, Castiel padded down the hall silently in his sock-feet, still musing about dinner options. Italian chicken or spaghetti? He’d picked up a beautiful loaf of French bread from the little bakery he’d discovered yesterday, and it would make nice garlic toast.  Did Dean like chicken?

Castiel walked into the kitchen and nearly tripped over Dean, who was turning away from the stove, holding a mug.  Dean yelped and the cup went flying, splashing its very hot contents all over Castiel’s chest and stomach before shattering on the floor.

Castiel stumbled backward in shock, yanking his shirt up and over his head, too stunned to make a noise.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit, how badly are you burned?” Dean demanded.  He was right up in Castiel’s space, looking at Castiel’s abdomen, and Castiel momentarily forgot the way his nerves were shrieking at him. “Cas, talk to me!” Dean said, and Castiel shook himself.

“I’m… _oh,_ ” he said, his eyes widening.  “That…hurts.  A lot.”

“Goddammit, I’m so fucking sorry,” Dean said.  He grabbed Castiel’s wrist and towed him to the sink, turning on the cold water. "Keep it there."

Castiel hissed as the water hit his skin and sucked in a breath but after a brief flare of pain, the throbbing subsided into a blessedly numb state, and he sighed in relief. “Oh…that _is_ better.”

“Good,” Dean said, straightening. “I swear, I really am going to put a bell on you.”  But he was smiling, and Castiel couldn’t help his smile back.

“What are you doing home from work?” he asked.  “I thought you’d be there another hour at least.  And what were you doing with the hot water?”

Dean shrugged. “Slow day.  Took advantage of owning the business and skipped out early. And…I was making tea.” He rested a hip against the counter, not looking at Castiel.

“But…you don’t drink tea,” Castiel said.

“I know that,” Dean snapped, nettled.

Castiel stared at him, something dangerously like hope rising in his chest.  “Dean…were you making me tea?”

Dean shrugged, still not looking at him.  “Maybe?” He glanced up and met Castiel’s eyes. “I just…thought you might like some.”

Castiel stared at him, stunned, his mind spinning.  Dean had been making _him_ tea.  Surely that meant something?  But maybe it didn’t.  He was putting forth an effort, after all, trying to make sure Castiel was comfortable in his home.

Dean shifted uneasily. “Um, Cas?”

Castiel shook himself. “I need to…I should go.” He turned on his heel and left the kitchen, avoiding the pottery shards on the floor.

Safely in Sam’s bathroom, Castiel inspected the burn.  The skin was reddened but the burn was minor and the pain had already faded to a manageable stinging.

Castiel stared at himself in the mirror.  Gabriel’s words rang in his ears.

 _He_ likes _you, dude.  Take your shirt off; he’ll do the rest._ Castiel grimaced. He’d taken his shirt off but Dean had been a little busy making sure he hadn’t given him third-degree burns to really appreciate the view.

Castiel gripped the counter with both hands and resisted the urge to groan.

_He likes you._

Gabriel had an uncanny ability to see to the heart of a matter, even from a thousand miles away, and for all his tendency to joke, Castiel had yet to regret taking advice from him.

He straightened, lips firming, and left the bathroom, the towel a crumpled, forgotten heap in the sink.

Jogging down the stairs, Castiel swung around the corner and into the kitchen, where Dean was on his knees, carefully picking up the bigger pieces of the mug.  He looked up when Castiel entered.

“Cas?”

Castiel swallowed hard and went to his knees in front of Dean so they were face to face. Dean’s eyes were startled, wary as they watched Castiel’s face, but he didn’t move.

Castiel took a deep breath, cupped Dean’s face in both hands and pressed their lips together.

Dean was frozen against him, utterly unmoving, and Castiel began to panic.  He’d misjudged, read the signals wrong, made a fool of himself yet again.

He started to pull away, to apologize and find a hole to bury himself in, and Dean dropped the pottery in his hands and went after him, clutching at Castiel’s shoulders, mouth hot and seeking and desperately hungry.

Castiel kissed him back with just as much urgency, their lips parting and tongues sliding together. It was wild and rough and Castiel thrilled to it, his arms wrapping around Dean’s waist and pulling him forward into his lap.

Dean made a rough, agreeable noise and straddled him, hands sliding up into Castiel’s hair as he deepened the kiss.

They stayed that way for several long moments before Dean finally broke contact, his head falling back as he gasped for air.  Castiel took the God-given opportunity presented and went after his neck, nipping a hot line up Dean’s throat and along his jawline.

Dean shook, clinging to him. “ _Jesus,_ Cas,” he groaned. 

Castiel hummed agreement, latching onto Dean’s pulse point and sucking a bruise into the delicate skin. Dean arched against him, a helpless sound falling from his lips, and Castiel finally spared enough brain cells to free one hand and reach between them to where Dean’s erection was rubbing against his own.

Dean caught his wrist and stopped him and Castiel looked up, bewildered.  Surely he hadn’t been reading Dean wrong _again?_

“Not…here,” Dean managed. “Bed.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. “Yes, that would be…preferable.”

Dean scrambled to his feet and held out a hand.  Castiel accepted it and stood, swaying into Dean’s space.  The taller man smiled down at him, a finger tracing Castiel’s jawline, and then he was fitting their lips together again, and the kiss this time was slow, sweet and unhurried, drawing out like warm honey between them.

Castiel nearly stumbled forward when Dean took a step back, but Dean steadied him, smiling, and slid his hand down Castiel’s arm, interlocking their fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve shown you my place, have I?” he said.

Castiel shook his head and allowed himself to be towed out of the kitchen and down the stairs into the basement.

He glanced around, startled at what he found.  The living room was large and spacious, with surprisingly high ceilings and plush carpet underfoot. The walls were a pale blue, giving the place an open, airy feel, and Dean was grinning at Castiel’s surprise.

“Did you think I lived in a hole in the ground?” he teased.

Castiel shot him a smile. “I know very well you’re not a hobbit, Dean.  Your feet aren’t hairy enough.”

Dean snorted a laugh and pulled on Castiel’s hand, tugging him toward the door that stood open at the other end of the room.

_Dean’s bedroom._

Inside, Castiel stood still, suddenly awash with nerves.  Was he really doing this?  What was he thinking? He had to live with Dean for two more weeks; what if something went wrong?

Dean closed the door and stepped around in front of Castiel, tipping his chin up with one long finger.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Come on back, yeah? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Castiel swallowed his fears and took a step closer, up in Dean’s space.  “I’ve wanted you since the morning after we met,” he whispered, and Dean closed his eyes and shuddered.

“Your _voice,_ Cas,” he said.  “It’s like…whiskey-soaked sex.”

Castiel ignored this, pushing Dean toward the bed until the taller man bumped against it and sat down, staring up at Castiel.

“I woke up to you banging and crashing around in your car, and I came down ready to tear strips off your hide,” Castiel growled, tugging Dean’s soft t-shirt up and over his head.

Dean winced as he came free of the shirt.  “I really am sorry,” he began, but Castiel put a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up,” he commanded, and Dean’s eyes went wide but he obeyed.

“I came out on the stoop, so angry with you,” Castiel continued, running his hands down Dean’s chest, tugging lightly at one nipple and then the other until Dean was quivering, eyes closed tightly against Castiel’s exploring.  “And you straightened, covered in grease and sweat and dirt, and you wiped your face with the hem of your shirt.  Do you remember that?”

Dean swallowed hard and nodded.

“All I could think about was ripping your clothes off and _tasting_ you,” Castiel said, and he began to work on Dean’s belt buckle. Pulling the belt free, he unbuttoned the jeans and Dean lifted his hips so that Castiel could work the denim down past his thighs, taking a shaky breath as his erection sprang free.

Castiel went to his knees on the floor in front of him and immediately wrapped a hand around it, beginning to stroke.  Dean fell back onto his elbows, groaning deep in his throat, hips stuttering upward as Castiel’s hand slid up and down his length.

“Cas,” Dean panted. “Want you up here with me. _Please._ ”

Castiel didn’t want to stop stroking him, but being on the bed had…possibilities.  He stood up and shoved his slacks down, stepping out of them and his boxers as Dean scooted back on the mattress, watching him with unabashed hunger.

“Come here,” Dean said, holding out a hand, and Castiel crawled onto the bed, straddling Dean’s naked body, his cock sliding against the slight softness of Dean’s belly.   Dean gasped and arched upward and Castiel sat back until he was on Dean’s thighs.  He pulled at Dean’s shoulders until the taller man sat up, seeking Castiel’s mouth with a blind urgency that thrilled Castiel to his core.

Castiel reached down and enveloped both their erections in his hand and Dean choked on a groan, thrusting up as much as he could into the hot grip of Castiel’s fist. 

“ _Cas…”_

Castiel closed his eyes, rocking against Dean’s body, chasing the edge of his orgasm.  _So close…_ Dean’s hands latched bruisingly hard onto his hips, pulling Castiel tighter into him and Castiel stiffened, the contact sending him hurtling over, spilling over his hand in desperate jerks.  Dean followed a heartbeat later with a muffled groan, burying his face in Castiel’s collarbone as he shuddered through his release.

Spent and trembling, they collapsed onto the bed, Castiel sprawled bonelessly across Dean’s chest. Dean ran his hands up and down Castiel’s ribs, fingers sliding through the sweat on his skin.

Finally, Castiel stirred and lifted his head.  Dean smiled up at him.

“Have fun?”

Castiel’s lips twitched. “It was…tolerable.”

Dean’s eyes widened in mock outrage and he rolled them until Castiel was pinned beneath him. “Only tolerable?” he growled, and dropped his head to kiss him.  Castiel laughed into his mouth and kissed back indulgently, enjoying the taste of the beer Dean had been drinking earlier.

Finally Dean pulled away, breathing a little harder, and cocked an eyebrow.  “I guess I’d better keep practicing.  Wanna take a shower with me, help me brush up on my moves?”

“I suppose,” Castiel said carelessly.  “I don’t have anything better to do right now.”  He let Dean tug him up off the bed and into the bathroom, not bothering to stifle his laughter.

 

**GABRIEL**

Sam was in the backyard with the girls while Gabriel hid in his study, trying desperately not to watch them out the window.  Abigail had dug out the football again and begged Sam to throw it with her, and nothing would do but that Bethany join in, despite her usual vocal disdain for anything sports related.

Gabriel sighed and looked at his computer and the half-finished document.  His editor was waiting for his latest report, and all Gabriel wanted to do was watch the man currently tossing a football to Abigail.

They’d spent the last week doing everything Gabriel could think of.  He’d been determined to show Coquille off to Sam and had dragged him everywhere he could.  Hiking in the forests (making out with Gabriel’s back pressed up against a tree, rough bark digging into him while Sam’s lips devoured his), the beach (kissing in the ocean, salt on Sam’s mouth as he pulled a laughing, protesting Gabriel into the waves), the local museums (Sam was a history nerd, Gabriel had discovered to his great delight, and they’d spent hours exploring).

Sam had enjoyed it all, taking every opportunity presented to kiss Gabriel’s brains out, teasing him in public and then taking him home and slowly, relentlessly shattering him into pieces until Gabriel was helpless and begging beneath him.

Gabriel closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.  He wasn’t going to survive this.  Sam left in three days. _Three days,_ and already Gabriel couldn’t imagine life without him. He had brought life and laughter back into Gabriel’s world, and in three days he was going to get on a plane and they would never see each other again.

Neither one mentioned Sam’s upcoming departure in private, although Gabriel took care to remind the girls at least once a day.  It was as if by not talking about it, it wasn’t happening.  Sam wasn’t leaving.  He was staying, a perfect fit for their family that they hadn’t known they needed.

Gabriel sighed and began typing. Fantasy was all very well but it didn’t put food on the table.

 

The night before Sam’s departure, Gabriel took Bethany and Abigail to Kali’s parents for a sleepover. Then he went home and knocked on Sam’s door.

Sam opened it with his arms full of fluffy cat, who gave Gabriel a disdainful look and flicked her tail.

“Feeling’s mutual,” Gabriel informed her.

Sam laughed and stepped back so that Gabriel could enter.  “What’s up?” he said, setting Persephone down so she could scamper off and do mysterious catlike things on her own time.

Gabriel smiled up at him. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend the night with me, Sam,” he said.

They’d done almost everything conceivable in Gabriel’s bed, but spending the whole night together hadn’t happened.  With the girls in the house and unaware of Gabriel’s relationship with Sam, it wasn’t possible, and Gabriel had realized several days previous that it was something he desperately wanted; to wake up in the morning with Sam’s arms around him, to have one night together.

Sam’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh _hell_ yes,” he said fervently, and Gabriel laughed.  “But what about the girls?”

“Grandparents are good for some things,” Gabriel told him.  “Grab whatever you’ll need.  For the rest of the night, you’re mine.”

 

They spent the evening watching movies and tangled in a comfortable sprawl on the couch, Gabriel between Sam’s legs, his back against Sam’s chest.  He could hear the steady thump of Sam’s heart when he turned his head, and it made him smile.

Sam’s arms tightened around him. “What are you thinking about?” he murmured as the credits began to roll.

“Mostly?” Gabriel said. “You.”

Sam huffed a soft laugh and kissed his hair.  “Gabe…I want to say something.”

Gabriel froze, holding his breath.

“I guess mainly, I want to say thank you,” Sam said quietly.  His breath was warm against Gabriel’s neck.  “For this month, for helping me forget so thoroughly about Ruby, for letting me into your family, and for…everything.”

Gabriel ran his fingers along Sam’s arm, feeling the crisp hairs spring back against his hand, the muscles flexing under the skin as Sam shifted position.

“You made this the best vacation I’ve ever had or _will_ ever have,” Sam said.  “Pretty hard to beat this one.  Ever. So thank you.  I just…I think I might be f-”

Gabriel turned and cut him off with a desperate kiss, white noise roaring in his brain. _Don’t say it Sam, dear God please don’t say it._

Sam grunted at the urgency of Gabriel’s mouth but kissed back just as hard, hand sliding up and cupping the base of Gabriel’s skull to steady him as Gabriel twisted around and went to his knees to get a better angle.

Finally, Gabriel pulled away a little, panting for air.  Sam blinked up at him, eyes dazed, hair mussed, and Gabriel had never seen anything more beautiful.

“Bed,” Gabriel said. “Now.”

They didn’t speak the rest of the night.  Gabriel let his hands and mouth do the talking, mapping out his fears and longing and desperate yearning against Sam’s smooth skin, and if Sam noticed the tears in Gabriel’s eyes, he was kind enough not to mention them.

Time blurred and slowed as Sam worshiped Gabriel’s body, lavishing him with tiny, soft kisses all over, holding both Gabriel’s wrists in one huge hand as he worked his way down Gabriel’s chest until Gabriel was writhing, broken pleas catching in his throat.

Sam took his time working Gabriel open, too, pressing kisses against Gabriel’s knee as Gabriel shuddered and begged wordlessly.

When Sam lined up and began to push inside, Gabriel closed his eyes and turned his head away, biting his lip, overwhelmed by sensation.  But Sam caught his chin and brought him back, silently forcing Gabriel to open his eyes, to hold his gaze as Sam entered him, until they were fully joined and Gabriel was laid bare, stripped to the core, utterly helpless.

His orgasm, when it hit him, was almost secondary, an afterthought.  Sam braced himself on his elbows, burying his face against Gabriel’s throat as he emptied with a desperate groan, and Gabriel felt a tear sliding down his cheek.

_Why couldn’t he keep this?_

He closed his eyes again as Sam pulled out, dropping a gentle kiss on Gabriel’s lips before padding naked to the bathroom and returning with a warm washcloth.  He took his time cleaning them both up and then pulled Gabriel into his arms with a sigh, his breath ruffling Gabriel’s hair.

They fell asleep like that, Gabriel unsure where Sam ended and he began.


	9. Chapter 9

**SAM**

Sam woke to the smell of frying bacon.  He followed his nose to the kitchen and found Gabriel at the stove, tending the skillet. Sam slid his arms around Gabriel’s waist and kissed his neck, and Gabriel twisted away.

Surprised, Sam let go, but Gabriel was smiling at him over his shoulder as he pulled plates out of the cupboard.

“Morning,” he said. “Coffee’s ready if you want some.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, still puzzled. He filled a mug and leaned against the counter, watching Gabriel’s neat, economic movements as he flipped the bacon and slid the sizzling strips onto the rack.

“Are you packed?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Did that last night. Just have to put everything in the taxi when it gets here.”

Gabriel snorted. “Please.  The girls and I are taking you to the airport.”

“Oh.” Sam smiled. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Like Abigail _or_ Bethany would forgive me if I didn’t give them a chance to wave goodbye to you?” Gabriel said.  He carried the plates of bacon and pancakes to the table and motioned at Sam to sit.

Sam obeyed, his stomach sinking. Something felt…wrong. Off, somehow.  Gabriel wasn’t looking at him, was too cheerful but the smiles weren’t reaching his eyes.  Sam reached across the table and covered Gabriel’s hand with his.

Gabriel stilled and then pulled his hand away, passing him the serving platter of pancakes.

“Gabe,” Sam said quietly, ignoring the plate.

Gabriel set the platter down and sighed.  “Don’t,” he said.

“Don’t _what?_ ” Sam said.

“Don’t complicate this,” Gabriel snapped.  “You’re leaving. We had fun.  That’s all this was, now eat your breakfast.”

Sam flinched. They ate their meal in silence, Sam’s mind going in circles.  He wanted to protest that it had been more than just a good time, that he was pretty sure he was head over heels for the man sitting opposite him determinedly eating pancakes, but Gabriel’s expression forbade further comment. 

Sam sighed inwardly. He would respect Gabriel’s wishes, no matter how much it hurt.  Obviously, Gabriel didn’t want to go any further, didn’t want to try to make… _this…_ work, and as much as that stung, Sam understood. Gabriel didn’t feel the same way. He’d stopped Sam the night before when Sam had been about to confess that he was falling in love with him because he couldn’t say it back.  He had the girls to think about, after all.

Gabriel gathered the dishes and Sam helped him wash and dry them without speaking.

“Ready?” Gabriel said.

Sam nodded. “I’m just going to go clean Persephone’s litter-box and make sure she has food and water.” He put the last clean plate in the cupboard and escaped out the door.

In Castiel’s house, Persephone chirruped at him happily and he bent to pet her.  He’d miss the little furball, he realized. He scooped her up and cuddled her under his chin and Persephone went boneless and purred loudly.

“Can I tell you something, Seph?” Sam said.  “I don’t want to go. Well, I want to go back to Nashville; I miss home, and Dean, and all that.  But I don’t want to leave, at the same time.”  He buried his nose in Persephone’s soft fur, sighing. Then he sneezed several times in quick succession as he got cat hair up his nose.  Persephone wriggled down and flounced off, offended, and Sam snorted at himself and began to gather his bags. 

He cast one last regretful look around the house before he stepped outside.  Gabriel was waiting on the porch, hands in his pockets. He looked up and smiled when Sam appeared. 

“All set?” he asked.

Sam nodded and Gabriel helped him bundle the bags into the back of his sedan.   Sam slid into the passenger’s seat, thinking wistfully about the first time he’d sat there, taking wicked delight in torturing Gabriel, and then the night that had followed.

He’d never have that again, he’d never touch Gabriel like that again, and Sam leaned his head back against the headrest and sighed.

Gabriel shut the car door and buckled. “Looking forward to getting home?” he asked as he started the car.

Sam nodded silently.

“Don’t worry about Persephone,” Gabriel said.  “We’ll take good care of her until Cas gets home tomorrow.  I’m glad you’re gonna get to meet him, you know.  Cas is a great guy.  You’re really gonna like him.  I remember this one time -”

“Gabe,” Sam said quietly. “Stop talking.”

Gabriel kept his mouth shut until they picked up the girls.  Abigail was bouncy and excited, while Bethany sat silent, tears on her face.

At the airport, Sam turned to Gabriel.  “Can you give me and Bethany a minute?”  Gabriel nodded and Sam took Bethany’s hand, tugging gently until she followed him to the plastic seats by the doors.

He sat down and patted the seat next to him, and Bethany sat beside him, sniffling occasionally.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Bethy,” Sam said gently.  “But I have to. My life is back in Tennessee. My whole family is there.”

“Why can’t _we_ be your family?” Bethany wailed, and Sam’s heart broke. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

“Oh baby girl, you _are_ family now,” he said against her hair as she wept. “I fell in love with all of you and I hope you’ll let me watch you grow up, because I just know you’re going to be the most amazing woman.  But I don’t live here, sweetheart.  I have to go.”

Bethany curled her fingers in his shirt and held on tight as Sam rocked her gently.

“Will you do something for me?” Sam asked finally.

Bethany nodded against his chest.

“Take care of your daddy, okay? He’s got a lot on his shoulders and he could really use your help.”

Bethany nodded again, sniffling, and Sam helped her stand up.

“You’ll write to me, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” Sam said. He spotted Gabriel by the ticket counter and they headed that way.  “Maybe your dad will let you call so we can talk sometimes, too.”

Bethany didn’t say anything, but she gripped his hand a little tighter.

 

When boarding for Sam’s flight was called, Bethany burst into fresh tears and ran for the bathroom.

Gabriel moved to go after her but Sam stopped him. 

“Let her go. Tell her I’ll miss her, okay?”

Gabriel took a deep breath and nodded.  Abigail was tugging on Sam’s jacket.

“Sam, _Sam!”_

Sam bent down and scooped her into his arms and she twined her arms around his neck.  Sam hugged her tight, heart twisting in his chest. Gabriel stood silently, face blank.

“I’ll write to you _every day,_ ” Abigail whispered in Sam’s ear, and he smiled, trying to ignore the way his eyes were misting over.

“Good,” he managed. “Be nice to your sister, baby girl.”

He set her down and turned to Gabriel. 

Gabriel smiled up at him and held out his hand.  “Have a safe flight.”

“Gabe…” Sam said, and faltered. What was there to say?

“Have a safe flight,” Gabriel repeated, picking Abigail up to perch on his hip, and Sam nodded.

“Yeah.  Yeah, okay.”

He handed the ticket to the girl at the desk and stepped into the hall.  His last sight was of Gabriel and Abigail, bright chestnut hair pressed against black as they watched him leave, waving goodbye.

Sam found his seat and stowed his bag, feeling numb all over.  He sat down and buckled, resting his head against the bulkhead. 

Time to go back to his life.

 

**GABRIEL**

Gabriel was proud of himself, in a dim, distant corner of his mind, for the way he managed to keep it together as he found Bethany and wiped her tearstained face, consoling her as she sobbed into his shirt.

He stayed steady as he took the girls out to the car, keeping a light stream of chatter until Bethany’s sobs faded to quiet sniffles and the occasional hiccup. 

He smiled and talked cheerfully the whole way home, set the girls on the couch with a movie they’d been begging him to rent, and kissed them both.

“I’m going in the bedroom for a little while, okay?” he said.  “You two little hoodlums stay right here and watch your movie.”

Bethany nodded. Abigail didn’t even notice he’d said anything, eyes glued on the screen.

Gabriel walked with careful, precise steps into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He crossed the room and stepped into the bathroom, locking the door.  He turned on the water in the sink and shower.  Then he sat down on the closed toilet lid.

 _Just this once._ He would indulge himself in this, just this once, and then he would put it behind him and never let himself think of it ever again. 

Gabriel closed his eyes and fell apart.

 

**CASTIEL**

Dean bounced on his toes, watching for Sam through the crowds.  He shot a grin at Castiel, who couldn’t help but return it.  The past two weeks were a blur of sex, food, sprawled out sleep – Dean slept like it was an Olympic sport and Castiel learned quickly how to dodge unconscious elbows – and more sex, laughter and food.

And yet somehow in all there, Dean hadn’t gotten around to telling Sam about…them. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said every time Castiel brought it up.  “I will, Cas, I swear.” And then he’d give him that wicked grin and pull Castiel into his lap and distract him thoroughly, until Castiel was so dazed from being kissed that he’d forgotten what they were talking about.

So now here they stood, Castiel about to meet Sam for the first time, and Sam completely unaware that Castiel had embarked on a sexual relationship with Dean _two weeks ago._   Castiel resisted the urge to cover his face and Dean gave him a quizzical look.

“Okay?”

Castiel nodded and just then Dean caught sight of a tall man striding toward them, a bag slung across his broad shoulders and a wide grin on his handsome face.

Dean bounded forward and threw his arms around him and Sam hugged him back, closing his eyes tightly for a brief moment and then settling the smile back on his face as Dean pulled away and looked up at him, asking something.

Sam nodded and Dean grabbed his arm, towing him to where Castiel was waiting diffidently.

“Sammy, this is Cas.”

Sam held out an enormous hand and Castiel shook it, smiling up at him.

“It is very nice to meet you at last, Sam,” he said gravely.

Sam laughed a little and hugged him, Castiel grunting at the impact.  “We’ve talked so much on the phone and email that I feel like I’ve known you forever.  Don’t you dare get all formal on me now.”

“Cas only has two settings,” Dean piped up, grinning.  He was clearly almost beside himself with delight at having his brother home. “Pretty sure he’s either in Formal mode or Off.”

Cas glared at him but said nothing as Sam snorted a laugh and they headed for the carousel to pick up Sam’s luggage.

He hung back a little to give the brothers time to catch up.  It was true that he had felt an easy familiarity with Sam almost from the very beginning, which was perhaps why he had a niggling feeling now that something was wrong.

Oh, Sam laughed when Dean said something funny, he smiled easily, he answered questions and asked plenty of his own, but something was bothering him.  Castiel wasn’t sure what it was, so he simply watched, uneasy.

Dean glanced around and beckoned him over.  Castiel joined them and Sam gave him a smile as he hefted one of his suitcases and Dean and Castiel took the others.

“So we were thinking a picnic in the park this afternoon,” Dean said, leading the way out of the airport. “Ellen and Jo and Ash, maybe Benny if he’s not busy.  What do you think, Sammy?”

Sam nodded vaguely. “Sounds good.  Haven’t seen them in way too long.  How’re Jo and Laura doing?”

“They’re good,” Dean said. “Laura kept asking after you. Wanted to know when you were coming home; drove us all nuts.”

“She’s five, dude, cut her some slack,” Sam said as they reached the Impala and began to stow the bags. “I brought her a stuffed animal from one of the museums I went to.”

Dean rolled his eyes and punched him in the arm.  “You and Cas, I _swear._   What is it with you two and the nerdy pursuits? Did you do anything _fun_ while you were there?”

Sam yanked open the door and folded himself into the front seat without answering and Dean glanced at Castiel, puzzled.

Castiel pulled him around the back of the Impala, where the still open trunk mostly shielded them from view.

“Something is wrong with your brother,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean glanced toward the front of the car.  “Yeah, I’m getting that. Did he say anything to you?”

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t know what’s troubling him, but…go easy on him, Dean.  Maybe don’t ask him too many questions about his trip just yet?  He’ll tell us – or you, at any rate – when he’s ready.”

Dean nodded and ran a hand through his hair.  “Shit. Do you think he got his heart broken somehow?  He doesn’t even _know_ anyone in Oregon!”

“I don’t know, Dean.” Castiel touched his wrist.  “Just…be there for him.”

 

Sam was quiet on the ride home and dragged his bags upstairs to his room without speaking, where Castiel hadn’t slept  for over a week anyway.

“Um, Cas,” Sam said, standing in the doorway and looking around in confusion.  “I didn’t exactly think this through.  Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

This was the perfect opportunity to tell him.  Castiel glanced around for Dean but the little _sneak_ chose then to clear his throat and say loudly, “Sammy, I’m getting a beer, want one?” and thunder down the stairs without waiting for an answer.

Castiel’s lips tightened. Sam glanced over his shoulder inquiringly and Castiel forced a smile.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, Sam,” he said.  “You look tired. Why don’t you rest until the picnic?”

Sam nodded and sat down on the bed with a thump, touching his pillow absently.   Castiel hesitated, then reached out and gripped Sam’s shoulder. Sam looked up, startled, and Castiel found he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ll…I need to speak to Dean,” he said.  “I’m glad you’re home.”

And he escaped out the door, hurrying down the stairs.

Dean was in the kitchen, leaning against the sink and taking a long swallow from his beer. Castiel strode into the kitchen and glared at him, and Dean had the nerve to _grin_ at him.

“You are going to tell him,” Castiel growled.

“Of course!” Dean said. “I just didn’t think it was the right time, dude, did you see his face?”

Castiel gritted his teeth. Dean had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. Adding to the load on Sam’s shoulders would not be kind.

“Tonight,” Dean said. “After the picnic.” He reached out and caught Castiel’s wrist, pulling him close.  Castiel went without protest, sighing as Dean fitted their lips together and slowly, sweetly, kissed him until Castiel was nearly boneless against him.

“Tonight,” Castiel said when they broke for air.  “Promise me.”

Dean looked wounded. “Really, dude? I said I’d tell him and I will. Now you’re going to start extorting _promises_ from me?”

“Promise,” Castiel said, his tone brooking no argument, and Dean rolled his eyes but nodded.

“I promise, you jerk,” he said. “Now shut up and kiss me again.”

Castiel smiled and obeyed.

 

They gathered in the park several hours later.  Laura especially was thrilled to see Sam, shrieking at full volume when she spotted him across the parking lot and tearing toward him.  Sam laughed and threw her into the air, her blond hair flying, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, babbling a mile a minute into his ear.

“Kids love him, for some weird reason,” Dean said to Castiel.

“I imagine it’s because he doesn’t speak down to them,” Castiel said as he hauled the old green cooler out of the back of the Impala.  It was packed full of delicious food from the diner, including at least two pecan pies, and Castiel’s stomach growled in anticipation.

“Yeah, plus he’s a giant nerd,” Dean said.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “One of these days you will admit just how proud you are of your brother and his intelligence. I hope I am here to see it.”

Dean gave him a smile that he’d only ever shared with Castiel in private before.  “I kind of hope you are too,” he said quietly, and Castiel’s heart leapt.

Before he could speak, though, Laura had wriggled out of Sam’s arms and charged for Dean. “Hi Mr. Cas!” she chirped as Dean hugged her.

Castiel smiled at her. “Hello, Laura. How are you today?”

He’d met Laura and Jo the week previous.  Jo’s mother, Ellen, was more than a little terrifying, but clearly had a heart of gold and adored Dean. She’d inspected Castiel thoroughly, figured out they were sleeping together in under five minutes, and simply told Castiel that if he broke Dean’s heart, she’d break both Castiel’s legs.

They hauled all the stuff to the tables under the shade trees and began setting out the food. Castiel was glad to see that Sam was smiling and laughing, tickling Laura and talking to Jo, who had an arm around his waist as they sat in the grass.

“We thought there for awhile that Sam and Jo might make a match of it,” Ellen said, opening a large bowl of potato salad.  Dean fell on it with happy noises.  “But they’re happier as brother and sister, I think.  I just wish Laura’s father realized just what he walked out on.”

Castiel piled a plate high and sat down on the grass to Sam’s right as Dean plopped down on his other side and dug into his food.

They ate in peace for a while, until Laura decided she’d been still long enough and dug out a Frisbee from Ellen’s huge bag.  She begged and cajoled until Sam groaned and got to his feet to throw it for her and Castiel settled back on his elbows to watch with a smile.  Dean grinned down at him.

“Comfy?”

Castiel hummed, closing his eyes, and tilted his face toward the small patch of sun that was falling through the trees.

Dean laughed quietly. “Okay then.”

The only warning Castiel got was a sharp intake of breath from Dean before a forty-five pound child landed squarely on his groin.

Castiel sat bolt upright, eyes bugging out.  Laura must have lost her balance and fallen directly on top of him, both knees finding their unintentional target with perfect aim.

Jo scrambled to pull her off, babbling apologies.  Castiel was too busy trying to breathe to answer her.  He was pretty sure he was turning purple.

Next to him, Dean was wincing in sympathy, leaning close.  “How badly did she get you?” he asked.

Castiel turned blindly towards him, pressing his face into the crook of Dean’s neck with a groan. Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, manfully suppressing the laugh that was trying to break free of his chest.

“Poor baby,” Dean murmured against his hair, low enough that only Castiel could hear him. “I’ll kiss it and make it better when we get home, okay?”

It was several long moments before Castiel was able to take a shaky breath and lift his head. Jo was sitting on his left, biting her lip.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said. “I _saw_ her trip and I just…couldn’t catch her in time.”

Castiel gave her a weak smile. “I’m all right.” He sat up and Dean’s arm dropped off his shoulders as the taller man stiffened.

“Sam…” The guilt in Dean’s voice said it all.

Castiel looked up. Sam was standing a few feet away, staring at them both in shock.  _Oh no._   This wasn’t how Castiel had wanted Sam to find out.

Sam dropped the Frisbee he’d scooped up and strode away, long legs covering the ground in rapid strides.

“ _Shit,_ ” Dean muttered.  He made to get up and Castiel stopped him.

“I think…I think I need to do this, Dean,” he said.  He leaned forward and kissed him and clambered painfully to his feet.  The ache was subsiding, thankfully, and he could walk without too much difficulty.

He found Sam sitting on the other side of the lake, throwing pebbles into the water and watching the ripples spread, his knees drawn up to his chest with one long arm wrapped around them.

Castiel sat down next to him with an internal wince and they stayed quiet for several minutes.

“What happened in Oregon, Sam?” Castiel finally asked gently.

Sam’s shoulders stiffened and he threw another pebble.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Castiel said.  “But something has clearly been bothering you since you got home.  I don’t think it’s because Dean and I are together, although perhaps that is somehow part of it.  So…what happened?”

Sam sighed and his shoulders slumped.  He picked up another pebble, rolling it between his long fingers, and Castiel waited.

“Did you know that your cousin will sometimes go out and find someone to sleep with?” Sam finally said.

Castiel nodded. “He’s only done it twice since Kali died.  Calls it ‘making a connection’. He is desperately lonely, although he hides it well.”

“Lonely,” Sam echoed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“How do you know about that, Sam?” Castiel asked.  “Did Gabriel tell you?”

Sam snorted a mirthless laugh. “Not exactly.  That’s how we met.”

Castiel sat utterly still, his mind spinning.  “You…and Gabriel?”

Sam nodded.

“But…you… _how?_ ”

Sam shrugged. “I was hurting over Ruby. I dropped my bags at your house, checked on your cat, and told the taxi driver to take me to a nice bar. He did.  Gabe was there and we decided to go to a hotel. We…” He grimaced. “When I woke up in the morning, he was gone.”

Castiel was putting the pieces together.  “And then you went back to my house…and Persephone escaped.”

“Straight for Gabriel’s house, yeah,” Sam said.

“Oh Sam, that must have been so hard for you,” Castiel said.

Sam stared at him. “ _Me?_ What about Gabe? His one night stand moved in next door for a month!  And then had the fucking nerve to _fall in love with him!”_ He covered his mouth with a shaking hand and turned his head away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Castiel was frozen in place. “Sam…you…”

“I fell in love with your cousin, yeah,” Sam said dully, staring out over the water.  “And we had a great time – the girls didn’t know, by the way; he made me promise we’d keep it a secret – and then he drove me to the airport and shook my fucking hand and waved goodbye to me as I boarded the plane.” Grief filled his face and he closed his eyes.

“I tried to tell him,” he whispered.  “The night before I left…I wanted him to know.  I knew he didn’t feel the same way, but I felt like he should hear it, you know?”

“What did he say?” Castiel asked.

“He wouldn’t let me finish,” Sam said.  A tear slid down his cheek and he wiped it away impatiently.  “He…shut me up.  Changed the subject.”

“Oh Sam,” Castiel said. His heart ached for the young man next to him.

“I’m not mad about you and Dean,” Sam said abruptly.  “I’m happy for you. Or I will be, eventually. I just…” His face crumpled. “Why can’t I have that, Cas? Why can’t I have that too?”

Castiel reached out without thinking, pulling Sam against him.  Sam went without protest, burying his face in Castiel’s shoulder as he fought the tears.

“My cousin is an _idiot_ sometimes,” Castiel said, rubbing Sam’s back. “I am not a betting man, Sam Winchester, but I would lay good odds that he feels exactly the same way about you.”

Sam pulled away, wiping his face. “Then why…”

“Why didn’t he let you tell him?” Castiel said.  “Probably for the same reason he insisted on keeping it a secret from the girls. He is afraid.”

“Afraid of _what?_ ” Sam demanded.

“Afraid of losing you, I would imagine,” Castiel said.  “He lost Kali, and it tore a hole through the center of him.  He has sounded more alive in the past few weeks, with you there, than I’ve heard him sound since before she got sick.  I didn’t put it together, but the reason is clear.

“Sam, you have to understand. You live a thousand miles away. Your life is here. Gabriel can’t ask you to uproot your world, leave your family and friends, and move to Oregon just to be with him. And at the same time, he would feel that he cannot simply move himself and the girls to Nashville, especially when he is not sure enough of himself to be confident of his welcome.”

“His _welcome?_ ” Sam sputtered.  “If he came here, I’d…I’d roll out the fucking red carpet for him, I’d throw _flowers_ at his feet, how could he think he wouldn’t be welcome?”

Castiel smiled, affection welling inside him for the young man.  “Gabriel does not think himself worthy of love of that magnitude,” he said simply. “And he is afraid of allowing himself to love that deeply again.”

Sam stared at him, anguish in his eyes.  “What do I _do_ , Cas?” he begged. 

Cas gripped his shoulder. “Leave it to me.”

 

Dean was waiting, tense and anxious, when they got back to the picnic site.  Sam walked straight up to him and hugged him tight and Castiel could see the worry drain from Dean’s body as he hugged his little brother back.

Castiel smiled, and when Dean held out a hand to him, he accepted it gladly, allowing Dean to pull him close as Sam stepped back.

“You sure you don’t mind, Sammy?” Dean asked.

Sam snorted. “Other than the fact that Cas can do better?  Nah, man, I don’t mind. Just…don’t lie to me, okay?”

“Technically I didn’t,” Dean pointed out, and Sam glared at him.

“ _Technically_ I can still kick your ass,” he said.  “So watch it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**GABRIEL**

Castiel refused to allow Gabriel to pick him up at the airport.

“My plane arrives just before the girls get out of school, Gabriel,” he pointed out.  “You can’t do both.  I will take a taxi and I will see you soon.”

Gabriel sighed and hung up. Ever since Sam had left, Gabriel had wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, pull the covers over his head, and never come out.  But Bethany and Abigail needed him, and Bethany especially was worried about him. _She was too perceptive_ , Gabriel thought as he dragged himself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to start breakfast, and Gabriel’s acting skills had never been that good.

 

Several hours later, Castiel knocked on his door.  Gabriel opened it and Castiel took a long look at him.

“Oh, Gabriel, you look even worse than Sam,” he said quietly.

“Nice to see you too,” Gabriel said, stomping hard on the hope swelling in his chest. Sam looked bad? Was he taking this as hard as Gabriel was?  No.  _It was a crush,_ he reminded himself.  It hadn’t meant anything.

Castiel pulled him into a hug and Gabriel went without protest.  Castiel’s arms were strong and he smelled comforting, like pines and aftershave, and Gabriel gripped him tight, head on Castiel’s shoulder.

“I’m so stupid, Cas,” he whispered.

“Yes you are,” Castiel said.

Gabriel shoved him away, offended, and Castiel cocked his head and smiled.

“You pushed away the person who has given you the most joy since Kali, who fit into your family perfectly. Bethany and Abigail _adore_ him, that much was obvious simply over the phone. Do you really expect me to tell you that you’re _not_ being stupid? Gabriel, letting Sam go was possibly the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.  And you’ve done quite a few very dumb things, as I know all too well.”

“It’s just a crush for him, Cas,” Gabriel snapped.  He spun on his heel and stalked back into the house.  “Why on _earth_ would he saddle himself with a middle-aged guy with two daughters?  It’s a stupid crush because of the great sex and that’s all it is. He’ll have forgotten all about me in a month, you watch.”

Castiel followed him down the hall. “A month?  So are you saying that if he still feels the same way in a month, then you’ll consider trying to make this work?”

“Dude, if he still feels the same way in a month, I’ll propose to him,” Gabriel flung over his shoulder.

“And where would you live?” Castiel inquired, leaning in the doorway as Gabriel began making coffee with sharp, jerky movements.

“Here.  There.  It doesn’t fucking matter,” Gabriel said.  “I’d move to Nashville in a heartbeat if I thought this was more than a good time for him, but it _wasn’t_ , Cas, he had fun, I had fun, he didn’t even _fight for me.”_

He sat down hard on the floor, covering his face with both hands.  Castiel knelt in front of him and gripped his wrists gently, pulling them down and away.

“You pushed him away, you _told_ him to go, Gabriel, you made sure he believed that all you wanted was sex, and now you’re upset because he took you at your word?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that,” Gabriel muttered.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Because it _is,_ you, you… _idiot!”_

Gabriel stared at him, shocked. Castiel _never_ called people names. 

He was rocking back on his heels and standing in one fluid motion.

“One month, Gabriel. Then we will be having this discussion again.”

 

**Twenty-nine days later**

 

Gabriel sat in his study, tapping dully at the keys.  He’d barely spoken to Sam since he’d left and yet the young man was still all he could think about. Bethany or Abigail begged to call him almost every day, and Gabriel had taken to letting Bethany dial Sam’s number and place the call herself, so he didn’t have to hear Sam’s deep voice. The stilted conversations just hurt too much.

Bethany tapped on the door and put her head inside.  “Daddy? Can I make cookies?”

Gabriel closed the laptop and sighed.  “Sure, baby.”

Instead of leaving, Bethany ventured further into the room.  “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

Gabriel forced a smile. “I’m fine,” he said.

“No you’re not,” Bethany said flatly.  “You’re sad. Why are you sad? Is it because of Sam?”

Gabriel flinched. How did she…  “I’m not…Sam isn’t…what are you talking about?”

Bethany rolled her eyes. “I’m eleven, not blind, Daddy. You used to smile at him sometimes, when you thought we weren’t looking.  And now that he’s gone…you don’t smile much at all, and when you do it doesn’t look real.  You look like you did after Mommy.”

Gabriel was staring at her in shock.  “Beth…”

Bethany sighed and crawled into his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck.  “You love him, Daddy.  You need to go after him.”

“You are…as perceptive as he is,” Gabriel finally croaked.  “But baby girl, Sam doesn’t feel the same way.  It was just…a fling, for him.”

“What’s a fling?”

“It’s…a good time, something had and quickly forgotten.  Enjoyed but never meant to last,” Gabriel said, his arms tightening around Bethany’s waist.

“It wasn’t a fling, then,” Bethany said firmly.

“No?” Gabriel asked, amused in spite of himself.  “What was it, then?”

“He loves you, Daddy. And you need to get him back.”

“He’s barely even spoken to me since he left!” Gabriel protested.  “All he does when he calls is to ask to speak to you or Abby.”

“Remember what you told me last year about Colin?” Bethany asked.

Gabriel cast his mind back. “Was that the little snot-nosed -” He caught himself.  “Uh, the kid you had a crush on?”

“Yes,” Bethany said, glowering at him.  “Remember how he avoided me for weeks and I thought he hated me?”

“Yeah…” Gabriel said. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going.

“You told me it was because he liked me too, that he wanted to ask me to the dance but he was afraid of being rejected.  Remember? And then two days later he _did_ ask me to the dance.”

She waited, golden eyes expectant.

“So you’re saying…Sam wants to ask me to the dance?” Gabriel hazarded.

That earned him a punch in the arm from one small fist.  “You know what you have to do, Daddy.  Do it.”

She slid out of his lap and headed for the door, and Gabriel watched her go with a mixture of awe and gratitude. When had his daughter gotten so smart?

“Bethy,” he called before she disappeared.

She glanced back.

“What’d you say when he asked you out?”

Bethany rolled her eyes. “I told him no. He turned out to be a total douche.” She slipped out the door and was gone, leaving Gabriel laughing helplessly alone in his study.

 

Castiel knocked on Gabriel’s door the next morning.  When Gabriel opened it, Castiel held out an envelope.

“What’s this?” Gabriel said. He opened it and stared at the airplane tickets that fell out.  Three of them; one each for him, Bethany and Abigail.  “Cas…”

Castiel arched an eyebrow. “It has been a month, Gabriel. You promised.”

“I can’t just pick up and go!” Gabriel sputtered.  “The girls have school! I have work!  I have to…”

“You have to get on that airplane tomorrow,” Castiel said inexorably.  “You will call the school and tell them the girls will be back in three days’ time.”

“But…”

Castiel regarded him silently and Gabriel wilted.

“What if you’re wrong?” he whispered.

Castiel’s expression softened. “I’m not,” he said simply.

Gabriel took a steadying breath. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.  I have to…I have to pack.  I have to call the school.  Will you keep an eye on the house while we’re gone?”

Castiel snorted and followed him inside.  “As if I’d miss this? I’m going with you, Gabriel. Persephone is going to a kennel and I’ll be on the plane with you.  Besides, I miss Dean.”

Gabriel couldn’t disguise his sigh of relief.  It was followed rapidly by a burgeoning sense of terror, and he stopped dead as it welled within him.

“Cas, _I can’t do this.”_

Castiel wheeled around and grabbed his shoulders.  “Yes you _can,_ cousin.  It’s the right thing to do and you know it.” 

“Does he know I’m coming?” Gabriel said.

Castiel nodded. “I’ve kept Dean aware of the situation.”

Gabriel took another deep breath. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

 

The girls, of course, were beside themselves. 

“We’re gonna go see _Sam!_ ” Abigail shrieked, bouncing in circles.

Bethany threw her arms around her father and hugged him until he was breathless.  “I knew you’d figure it out, Daddy,” she said.

“I have very little ‘figured out’, kiddo,” Gabriel said dryly, smiling down at her. “But you’re welcome to keep thinking I do.”

 

Gabriel was a mess of nerves by the time the plane touched down in Nashville.  Castiel was left wrangling both excited girls, Gabriel so distracted he barely noticed the questions they were peppering him with.

It was late afternoon and Gabriel suddenly realized he had no idea where they were going.

“Is he at home? Has he gone back to work? Cas, I don’t even know where he _is!”_

“Relax,” Castiel said, gripping his shoulder.  “He’s job-hunting, but at the moment Dean says he’s at the diner with him.  That’s where we’re going.”

He bundled Gabriel and both girls into the taxi at the curb and Gabriel sat tensely, drumming his fingers on his thigh.  He saw almost nothing of Nashville as they drove through it, and Castiel kept the girls occupied by pointing out sights through his window.

“Look, there’s the Batman building,” Gabriel heard him say.  “Dean took me to see that on our first date.”

Despite his nerves, Gabriel couldn’t help his smile.  Castiel was excited too, it was clear.

Bethany’s voice caught Gabriel’s ear as she said something to Abigail.  “Daddy’s in love with Sam.  That’s why we’re here; he’s gonna tell Sam how he feels.”

Abigail’s brow furrowed. “But…Sam’s a boy.”

“Yeah, so?” Bethany said.

“So’s Daddy,” Abigail pointed out.

“So what?” Bethany said. “They love each other. They make each other happy. What else do they need?”

“But they can’t have babies!” Abigail protested.

“That’s what _we’re_ for, silly,” Bethany said, and Abigail grinned.

“Oh.  Okay.  Daddy, I’m thirsty. When are we getting there?”

A tall man with brown hair and a huge smile on his face was waiting outside the small diner when the taxi pulled up.  Castiel nearly fell out of the car and Dean – it had to be Dean, who else would be kissing his cousin so enthusiastically – caught him, wrapping him in strong arms and holding him tight.

Gabriel followed, smoothing his jeans and shirt down.  Abigail and Bethany were already bouncing around Dean and Castiel, who finally broke away enough to laugh down at them.

“Dean, this is my cousin Gabriel Messina and his daughters, Bethany and Abigail,” Castiel said.

Dean held out a hand to each of the girls in turn.  Then he straightened and turned to Gabriel.

Gabriel found himself pinned by a pair of piercing green eyes, even greener than Sam’s. Dean inspected him thoroughly and thrust out a hand.

Gabriel took it.

“Get in there and fix your mess,” was all Dean said.

Gabriel nodded.

“He’s at the booth at the far end,” Dean added.

Gabriel reached out and caught the girls’ hands with his, walking a little unsteadily toward the diner door. He stopped just inside to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior.  Sam was sitting in the far booth, doodling on a little notebook.  His head was down, shoulders slumped, and he’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose, Gabriel realized with a clutch of his heart.

Abigail let out a happy shriek and tore away from him to dash across the room.

“Sam _, Sam!”_

Sam’s head jerked up in shock as Abigail barreled into him.  Hampered by the table, Sam slid out of the booth and onto the floor on his knees so he could pull Abigail fully into his lap.

“What are you _doing_ here, Abby?” he demanded.  “Is your -” His head came up, searching, and Gabriel froze when Sam’s eyes fell on him.

“Gabe.”

Bethany pulled away from Gabriel to join her sister in Sam’s embrace as Gabriel crossed the suddenly silent restaurant with slightly wobbling steps.  Sam’s arm came up to hold Bethany but his eyes were fixed on Gabriel with laser intensity.

Gabriel stopped a few feet away. He couldn’t feel his legs and he thought he might be floating several inches above the floor. He was vaguely aware of a slim blonde girl, a short man with a mullet and a much bigger, bearded man watching from behind the counter, but all he could see was Sam, kneeling on the floor and looking like the answer to all his prayers.

Gabriel gave a little wave. “Hi,” he managed.

Sam’s eyes darkened and he bent to whisper in first Abigail’s and then Bethany’s ear. Both girls scrambled up off his lap and sat down on the vinyl seat, holding hands and watching the scene before them.

Sam unfolded himself from the floor, standing up and towering over Gabriel.  “What are you doing here, Gabe?” he said.

Gabriel glanced around the room. There were no customers; the diner’s sign had said Closed, he realized belatedly, and they were alone except for Dean and Castiel behind him and the three strangers watching from the other side of the room.

“I…” For the life of him, Gabriel couldn’t think of anything to say.  “Do we have to do this here?”

Sam glanced around him and Dean cleared his throat.  “My office, dude.”

Sam nodded and turned on his heel without waiting to see if Gabriel followed.  Gabriel swallowed hard and did.

“No sex in there!” Dean called after them.  “The walls aren’t soundproof!”

Sam held the door open for Gabriel and closed it behind him, leaning against it and watching him silently.

Gabriel glanced around the office. It was small and windowless, the desk piled high with papers and one chair shoved up against the wall. Gabriel stood still, unsure what to do with his hands.

“You’ve lost weight,” he finally said. 

“That happens when you don’t eat,” Sam said quietly.  “Haven’t had much appetite lately.  Gabe, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?”

Something was niggling at the back of Gabriel’s mind.  “Wait, didn’t Cas tell you we were coming?”

Sam shook his head. “I know he’s been talking to Dean every day, but if he said anything to Dean, it wasn’t passed on.”

_He was going to_ murder _Cas.  Or maybe Dean._

Gabriel swallowed. Looked like he was cold-calling this. He took a step forward and Sam watched him, still pressed against the door as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

“The night before you left,” Gabriel said, “You thanked me for making your vacation so good.”

Sam nodded.

“You started to say something else,” Gabriel said.  “I…stopped you.”

Sam nodded again, hurt flickering across his face. 

“If it…” Gabriel stopped to take a deep breath.  He was afraid he was going to pass out.  “If it’s still true…do you think you could say it now?”

“I love you,” Sam said immediately, and the air whooshed from Gabriel’s lungs.  He grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from collapsing.

Sam took a step toward him. “I fell in love with you halfway through my stay. I thought it was a crush. I ignored it, told myself it would go away. But it didn’t. I’ve been home for a month and I miss you so much, Gabe, I miss you like _air_. I can’t breathe, I can’t sleep, I sure as fuck can’t eat, I -”

Gabriel launched himself at the taller man, grabbing his head and pulling him down so that Gabriel could kiss him, hungrily and desperately, forceful and needy and _wanting._   Sam moaned and kissed him back, yanking Gabriel up onto his tiptoes.

“I love you,” Gabriel whispered brokenly between kisses.  “I love you so damn much, Sam, I’m so scared and I don’t know what I’m doing but I know I love you and letting you go was the _stupidest_ thing I’ve ever done, can you ever forgive me, I’m so sorry…”

Sam shut him up with his lips, licking his way hot and demanding into Gabriel’s mouth until Gabriel was weak at the knees, clinging to Sam’s shoulders and shaking with want and need.

“I thought you didn’t feel the same way,” Sam said, kissing his way down Gabriel’s neck.

“I didn’t want to,” Gabriel confessed.  He shivered as Sam’s lips closed over a pulse point and sucked.  “I was so worried about the girls…and losing Kali gutted me, Sam, I’m so scared of loving like that again, of being left again, but…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam growled. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gabriel smiled up at him through the tears in his eyes.  “Good.”

 

They stumbled back out of the office in a daze, stopping dead at the sight of everyone in the diner standing shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the room, waiting for them.

“Uh…” Gabriel said intelligently.

“So?” Dean said. He was bouncing on his toes, clearly impatient.

Sam grinned and bent down to whisper in Gabriel’s ear.  “Do you remember that kiss you owe me?”

Gabriel jerked away and stared up at him.  “The…payment for babysitting one?”

Sam nodded, his eyes gleaming. “I think it’s time for you to pay up.”

 “But…” Gabriel glanced around.  Everyone was watching them.  Abigail and Bethany were front and center, staring at him and Sam with open mouths.

_Oh, fuck it,_ Gabriel decided.  He went up on his tiptoes again and yanked Sam down against him, slamming their mouths together so hard that Sam grunted against him, laughing and kissing him breathless.

The room erupted in whoops and cheers and someone pounded Gabriel on the back, knocking him into Sam, who steadied him and deepened the kiss.  Small arms were wrapped around them and Gabriel looked down to see Abigail and Bethany beaming up at them.

“Daddy loves you, Sam!” Abigail chirped. “You can’t have babies but that’s okay because you have me and Bethy and we _love_ you!”

Sam bent to pick her up. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, voice pitched so Gabriel could hear him.  “I love your daddy, too.  I’m even reasonably taken with you!”

“That means he loves you too,” Gabriel told his daughter when she blinked, confused.

Abigail grinned from ear to ear and flung her arms around Sam's neck.  Sam hugged her back, reaching out with one long arm to grab Bethany and pull her close.  Bethany caught Gabriel’s hand and he stepped in as well, wrapping his arms around the three people he loved most.  There were tears on his cheeks but he was smiling too hard to care.

 

**SAM**

He was dreaming, surely. Gabriel wasn’t there, in his arms, smiling up at him, Abigail and Bethany pressed up against them both as Dean and Castiel and everyone else in the diner crowded around to offer congratulations.

Castiel peeled Abigail away and introduced her to Dean, who shook her hand gravely.

“I’m thirsty,” Abigail informed him.

“Benny!” Dean called. “I need two glasses of cold milk and the rest of that pecan pie!”  He winked at Abigail and caught Sam’s arm, pulling him aside.  “We’ll keep the girls,” he said quietly, dropping something into Sam’s hand.  “You take Gabe back to our house, get this past month out of your system.”

Sam closed his hands over the keys to Dean’s beloved Impala and gaped at him.  “Are you _seriously_ telling me to take my…my _boyfriend_ home and have sex with him?” he demanded.

Dean shuddered, holding up both hands.  “Only if you promise to never mention your boyfriend and sex in the same sentence ever again,” he said, and Sam laughed, waves of disbelieving joy rolling out of him.

He dragged Gabriel out of the diner, the girls barely noticing their departure due to the pecan pie Benny set in front of them, and Gabriel stumbled on the steps, swearing as he caught his balance.

Sam slowed, guilt spiking through him.  “Sorry,” he said. The Impala was parked right next to the front door, thankfully, its sleek paint job glowing in the dusk of early evening.

Sam dug the keys out of his pocket and then dropped them as Gabriel crowded up in his space, pushing him back against the cool glass of the window.

“What…” Sam started, and Gabriel put a finger against his lips.

“I want to see…” he breathed.

Sam shuddered as Gabriel nosed at his throat, breath hot against his skin, and memories rolled over him. Pressing Gabriel up against his car, pinning him there and feeling the way Gabriel went loose and pliant in his hands, trusting Sam and pouring himself into their kisses.

Sam shut his eyes as love swamped him, roared through him, and then he was kissing Gabriel and Gabriel was damn near climbing him, wrapping himself limpet-like around Sam’s upper body and clinging to him frantically. 

Finally Gabriel broke the kiss and hid his face against Sam’s throat.  Sam could feel him trembling.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered, and Gabriel took a ragged breath.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, and Sam tightened his arms.

“No,” he said firmly. “No apologies, Gabe. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He loosened his arms and let Gabriel slide to the ground.  “Get your ass in the car; we’ve got places to be.”

 

They made it to Sam’s house in record time, the Impala’s tires squealing around corners and making Gabriel laugh even as he was thrown against the door.

Sam parked and they climbed out, Gabriel looking at the small house appreciatively.  Sam pointed at the window overlooking the driveway.

“That’s my bedroom,” he said.

Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. “Show me,” was all he said.

Sam grabbed his hand and all but dragged him inside and up the stairs.  It was a flurry of laughing and hands everywhere and Gabriel kissing him on the stairs, standing two risers above Sam so that their heads were almost level, and then Sam was gently pushing him backward up the steps, still kissing, drowning in love and relief and when they finally stumbled into Sam’s bedroom, Sam had to stop and close his eyes to take a shaky breath.

“Sam?” Gabriel sounded worried.

Sam opened his eyes. Gabriel was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes suddenly vulnerable and fear lurking in their depths.

“Have you…changed your mind?” he asked.  “I’d understand if you-”

Sam lunged forward and cut him off with a kiss, scorching and desperate.

“ _Never,_ ” he whispered when they were both panting for air. “Never, Gabe.  You’re mine.  I’m never letting you go again, do you hear me?”

Gabriel nodded, relief vivid in his golden eyes, and Sam took a deep breath.

“Jesus, you’re so gorgeous,” he said.  “Get naked, would you?”

Gabriel snorted a laugh and obeyed.

They tumbled onto the bed together and Sam pressed Gabriel into the mattress, delighting in the feel of Gabriel’s hard length against his thigh as they kissed slow and sweet and rutted against each other, hot and hard and aching until Gabriel was panting into his mouth and pulling fruitlessly on Sam’s arms.

“Please,” he managed. “Please, Sam…”

“Gonna come for me, Gabe?” Sam whispered, hips thrusting as he nipped his way down Gabriel’s throat. “Let me see it, baby, come on.”

Gabriel arched his back and came with a wordless moan, wetness splashing Sam’s stomach as he fell apart in Sam’s arms.

Sam held him through it, murmuring encouragement and words of love and praise against Gabriel’s sweat-dampened skin until Gabriel slumped back to the bed in a boneless heap, eyes dazed and unfocused.

Sam’s hips were still moving in tiny, restless circles and Gabriel worked a still-trembling hand between them and clasped his length.  Sam groaned and began to move in earnest, thrusting into the hot ring of Gabriel’s fingers as Gabriel’s other hand caught Sam’s hip and pulled him tighter against him.

“I love you,” Gabriel whispered, and Sam stiffened and fell apart in hot, desperate throbs, burying his face in the crook of Gabriel’s neck.

He had no way of knowing how much time had passed when he finally lifted his head and looked down at the man smiling up at him.

Sam wrinkled his nose at him, making Gabriel laugh out loud, and Sam didn’t fight the smile that spread across his face.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said simply, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, cats and kittens! As always, find me on the Tumblr at [GreyMichaela](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com), where I'm holding a fanfiction giveaway to celebrate nearly a thousand followers - if you win, I will write you your very own custom fanfic!
> 
> I love you all; thank you so much for reading and making this such a fantastic journey for me! And happy birthday, Susan - I'm sorry there's so much smut in your birthday present. ~snicker~
> 
> Side note: it's not included, but the little twit from the restaurant got fired. ;o)


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